The Witch Woman of Mirkwood
by Stella Limegood
Summary: "Tell me Elf have you ever thought about the word, Witch?".During the time of Bilbo Baggins, the Mirkwood Elves are prematurely attacked by the Orcs of Dol Guldur. Luckily King Thranduil has escaped with his life, only to find himself in the midst of a strange woman with alarming powers and secrets that will change all of Middle Earth. For her kind are the Warlens, a Hidden People.
1. Chapter 1

A Hobbit Fanfic:

_The Witch Woman of Mirkwood._

_By: Stella Limegood_

Chapter 1: The Elf in the Barrel.

"Oi!?"

"Oi! Tom lookit this!"

"What is it now Gyles?"

There was the sound of scuffling feet across a hard wooden deck.

"Cor….well I'll be?" said a gruff voice.

"Oi Tom…do youse suppose e's dead?"

"Hmm."

"Tom? Is e dead? Tom? Should we fish em out the river Tom?"

"Hush boy! I'm thinking. I is."

"But…but Tom…if'n we don't fish him out soon, I think he might drown!"

There was a slight scoffing noise and a very pointed silence.

"It's just e's looken a bit bashed up already, e does. Shoo…I think e might be bleedin! I'm thinken so I is! And look at them _ears_! I think e'smight be a you know what, Tom!"

The man named Tom spat over the small barge's deck at that, "Ha. Supposing he is? Huh. What's it got to do with us? Eh? Why should we simple men folk gets involved with um." This was said with an accompanied shoulder shrug of well-practiced indifference and matter of fact straight out bitter contempt that only the elderly can truly harness.

"Besides," continued the bitter bargeman named Tom, "he's already too far away for us to reach, and most likely he's already dead that un. Probably floated all the way down in that _barrel._ Me thinks. Heck besides youse see them scars, lad. A goner that one, best let em feed the fishes I say. Aight."

"But…but Tom e's…..an…e's an," the young man named Gyles stuttered nervously.

"Go on boy say it!" challenged the older man.

"Well. E's an _Elf!_" exclaimed Gyles in righteous exasperation.

"So. What." Snapped Tom.

"So what? So WHAT?!"

"You heard me boy. So what."

"E'S AN _ELF!_ TOM! AN _ELF!"_ cried Gyles in horror at the elder bargeman's lack of care or respect.

"Ha! That's suppose to impress me is it? Is it? Golly. Look lad, let me tell youse bout _Elves. _All them uppity royals and well-to do folk of what's that place in the East where the old King lived, lives? Ack. Doesn't matter. The point is lad they's all think the world of these shiny so called _Elves,"_ began Tom quite seriously, his one good eye fixed upon the young Gyles face.

"That's aight Tom! I member, me mum youse to tell me that they was _magical like! _And that they's bring _good luck!_" interrupted Gyles in excitement.

Tom promptly smacked the lad on the head, "Ouch!"

"Shut your dumb gab boy! I's telling youse something _important _I is! '_Magical indeed!' ((_HUFF)) BOULDERDASH! That is! Boulderdash and _Sauron' shit._ I's say!" shouted Tom indignantly!

"But me mum...?" tried Gyles, in what many people would have considered a heroic attempt.

"Yours ma knew squat! _Elves _is nothing lad: but _pointy eared, trouble making, tree-hugging, self-centered, rude, stuck up, cheating, scheming, pretentious, vain, nosey, bossy, repulsively wealthy, flower growing, bad at sharing, showing off, predjudicious, lazy, dangerous, untrustworthy, tight-ass, fancy pants well-too do braggish, long haired, gits and snobs! GITS AND SNOBS BOY! THAT IS WHAT Elves IS LIKE!"_

…_._

_.._

_._

_._

_._

For a good few minutes there was nothing but silence in the air after Tom's avid declaration on _Elves_. And for a brief second the world that was _Middle Earth_ believed that, that was all that was going to be said on the subject between the two human beings.

Fate though had other plans and in a small yet surprisingly firm, serious voice rather reminiscent of a turtle coming out from its shell, Gyles spoke up,

"Youse never even really met an _Elf_ afor ave's youse, Tom."

….

…

..

.

There was another lengthy pause filled with sheepish glaring and quite aghast indignation at having been called out. Before yet another resounding slap followed by a distinct, "OUCH!" filled the air of the two humans.

Meanwhile growing all the more distant as it went gently down the river, from the two bickering mortals on their little boat, was indeed a _large wooden_ _wine barrel. _An _Elvish wine barrel _in fact, that had been damaged by not only the rapids of the river, but orc arrows and blades, of which had been previously flung at it with deadly intent.

The reason for this deadly intent from orcs towards a simple _barrel_, could only be assumed to be because of the being that was currently passed out _inside _the wooden thing_,_ bleeding profusely. Who had hours before after being startled, throttled, attacked, _burned,_ beaten and finally stabbed not to mention shoved, had for better or worse accidently fallen into the wine cellar shaft under the _Mirkwood Palace_, and inadvertently escaped the Orc Leader's final end game.

Which to put bluntly, was a game that would have consisted of this poor being's most definite demise. For inside this lost and lonely _barrel,_ being pulled along the river, barely hanging onto the grace of life that the _Valar_ had gifted him with was an _Elf._

A truly special _Elf,_ whom many in this current time and place upon the world of _Middle Earth_ were already, believing to be dead, for the Orcs of _Dol Guldor had preemptively attacked the home of the Wood Elves. _

A home that was _burning, much to the great anguish of a young Elf prince named Legolas. Who at this moment found himself being forcibly dragged away from his dying home, by the remaining survivors of his people; alongside a strange company of dwarves led by a wizard, that had arrived most fortuitously the day before._

_As the Wood Elves tried to get their young prince to safety, they could not help but weep as he screamed aloud in desperation for them to turn back, "ADA! Lelthlan amin! I MUST SAVE HIM! HO NA CIN HARAN! ADAR! TAURIEL BY THE VALAR PLEASE! WE CAN NOT LEAVE HIM! NIN ADAR!...Nin adar! Adaaaaa…." _

_Eventually Prince Legolas's screams gave way to the softer wails of grief, while the Wood Elves fled on, under the determined guidance of the wizard named Gandalf, who in this desperate hour took it upon himself to take charge of the unexpected nightmare that had occurred much to his own personal shock._

_Beside Gandalf, on the wizard's right tread a small Hobbit named Bilbo Baggins, who despite his size found himself caring a small elven child in his arms to safety, in this new awful chapter of his unexpected adventure._

Simultaneously in the distant Lake of _Esgaroth_, the citizens of _Laketown _finally began to spot the great black cloud of smoke and ash in the sky coming from the _Woods_ in morbid fascination. Unaware of the wretchedness that would soon be heading towards them, in the following months for their f_ate_ was changing, as was the _fate _of all of _Middle Earth_.

Most especially _fate was changing_ for the blood soaked _Sindarin_ _Elf _struggling to live_, who was riding in the floating barrel,_ journeying down stream of an offshoot of the _Forest River. _

An _Elf, _who happened to be none other then the _King Thranduil Oropher._

_But perhaps of much more significance at this moment in time, fate was changing for a very unique person in the world of Middle Earth. A person who even the Valar and Maiar themselves would have been shocked to discover existed, for this person was of a race thought to be nothing but myth even by the HighValarian Lord Manwe. _

_For who could believe? That there existed in any of the world after nothing but countless centuries of known monstrosities such as: orcs, vampires, trolls, wargs, goblins, werewolves, monstrous cats, twisted worms, twisted Maiar called Balrogs, that the Dark Lord Melkor, the fallen Valar had made for once something else altogether?_

_That He the evil being also called Morgoth by the Elves had created another race not of his usual foul design, but rather for reasons uncertain and forgotten even to one such as Him, had instead deeply desired to do the opposite? _

_Who could believe that the one responsible for all evil in the world had made beings like, His own lost goodness? _

_Who could believe the dark one had made like his, once own greatly forgotten light, a race that was not horrid or necessarily cruel, (unless angered)? _

_No one could. _

_None could ever believe in such beings. _

_Even Melkor, or as he was later known as Morgoth, eventually forgot them._

_So like shards of crystal light in a dark cave they hid amongst the mighty sea of darkness of their maker until they vanished away out of sight, only to find themselves pleasantly forgotten by the entire world._

_Until today that is; where one who was going by the name of Milo at the moment and would have happily remained hidden forever if fate hadn't decided it needed to change found they had just spotted what appeared to be?_

"BEDKNOBS AND BROOMS! WHAT'S AN ELF DOING SWIMMING IN A WINE BARREL DOWNRIVER?! HEY! HEY! YOUR GOING TO MESS UP MY WASHING! ALLO! CAN YOU HEAR ME!?" shouted _the_ _one_ called Milo, as a washboard was suddenly dropped.

The unique character named Milo found themselves to be ignored, as they watched wide-eyed, the red _bloody barrel_ crash right into what had appeared to have been the pleasantly _potion _induced soapy suddzing of Milo's dirty laundry from the previous week.

A small sound of, "Oh no," was made as the net that Milo had '_equipped'_ to keep the laundry from floating away was also ignored, by both _Elf and_ _Barrel_.

Milo's unique midnight brown eyes widen like two horrified saucers!

Now the net was meeting the bottom of the current lying in tatters. While the barrel continued it's steadfast trip down the river, dragging a wonderful pair of _blue _underwear and everything else of Milo's clothing with it.

This instigated an immediate frown upon one Milo's face that transformed easily into a full-blown gale of disgruntlement. Milo began muttering,"Ohh no sir. Nooo sir. I can't have this. I can't have this! _Ungoliant's pincers! _I will not have this! Not by the _stars,_ will_ I_ put up with this!"

With a strange flick of the hands the _barrel found _it's journey abruptly halted, then with another flick of the hands the _barrel came _flying in the immediate direction of shore where Milo's feet were standing.

It landed on it's side, and out of it toppled what had once been the proud feared _King of Mirkwood, _now lying in a undignified sickly heap of soapy river water.

Milo's approach to the barrel stopped at the sight of the wounded _Elf._

For a few seconds there was a vast internal debate on what to do. Questions were raised and asked such as, 'Can I afford to do this? He's an _Elf? Perhaps I should just mercy kill him, after all that's what people like his kind would expect of one such as me? Right? No. _Look at him, _Millasia, _he's nearly dead already, I know I could call for help! What help? _Right,_ well…should I save him or not?"

As the internal debate waged the dark almost raven haired person going by the name Milo crept closer to the wounded ….._man._

For despite being an _Elf, _despite his partially scarred yet oddly _entrancing _face, and his wounded much disheveled appearance he was Milo noted very much a _man. 'Or perhaps a male of his species,' would be more appropriate?_

Milo wondered and in a state of open curiosity tinged with, yes _dreadful awful_ _concern_, brought a small long but finely fingered hand to the stranger's face. Thoughts began to run wild upon the contact, 'His skin feel's _soft even the scar side _like fine fur. Yet under his closed eye's I can _sense _the _battling shades of_ _dark, sweet spiders, _so much _pain in this one_. Poor unlucky _thing, he won't live the day out if I do not intervene, but?_'

Milo suddenly stood up and let out a primal sound of vexation at life in general, "OH WHAT AM I SAYING! BROOMS ABOVE! You don't have time for me to second guess like this," Milo spat at the fainted _elf._

Milo glanced again at the arrow sticking out of the barrel, and then back to the wounded _elf _knowing that the decision had already been made the second the _elf _had fallen out of it.

Milo sighed it might be dangerous but it had to be done, "Very well then, I'll save you. YOU HEAR THAT _ELF_-_MAN_? _I shall save you, I, Millasia, will do this. _So your dern lucky elf and you best not forget it."

Milo then stomped _a _foot in determination and began removing the heavier items of the _elf's clothing, "_Right then, now the only question is after I strip these wet clothes off, tie a few tourniquets to stop the blood loss, _cast _a few small '_precautions'_, how am I going to carry _you_ home _Sharp Ears_?"

Ten minutes later a very strange sight indeed was to be seen in the southern part of the Forest of _Mirkwood_. It consisted of what seemed to be a very mundane pale skinned, ordinary '_human boy'_ with dark black auburn hair and darker eyes, wearing dull peasant cloths carrying via _piggy back_ style (rather on thin shaky legs it might be noted) an extremely tall dazzling slumped over silver haired very handsome even by _Elvish _standards, _Sindarin Elf. _

However this alone was not what made the scene so odd, nor was it the _drool _coming out of the male elf'_s_ mouth that fell on the struggling human's shoulder making the scene odd. Although _Elf drool_ in of itself was a rare thing to witness it was mostly just disgusting, and not so much as strange as it was gross.

_Whereas what was distinctly interesting to the casual observer was the floating piles of folded laundry following the duo well above the ground of their own accord mid-air, and the small dog-sized spider suddenly chattering away at the human's wobbling heels?!_

_Now that…that was quite altogether something no one on Middle Earth had ever seen!_

**************************************************(End Chapter)

Disclaimer:

So I of course do not own the Hobbit nor Lord of the Rings. I make no money off of this (darn) but am merely a humble fan playing Goddess with things. The only thing I own is my O.C. and the idea of their origins. That's it, besides the plot idea, everything else all goes to Tolkien. The lucky genius.

This story takes place right during the second film if you go by film standards and interrupts the story of the Hobbit. Smaug is still in the mountain sleeping and literally right after the dwarves were imprisoned the Orcs of Dol-Guldor attacked in this fic of mine instead of just waiting.

Reasons why I started this fic: Recently I have been lucky to receive a great many followers for my other fic The Avengers and Jokul Frosti, however, my mind simply doesn't dwell on one fic alone and well, taken with the Hobbit films and an avid ring fan myself if I do say so, I couldn't help peeking at the fanfiction for the Hobbit.

Being a Thranduil lover and an Elf-obsessionist myself, I found I was greatly disappointed with the fandom. Over and over everyone is writing the same formula, girl or elf maid gets to Mirkwood, ends up in cell, King falls in love and then well that's just it, _bada bang bada boom!_ There are at least 27 fics, (I counted) out there that follow this procedure all of which are creative but all of which have a running route of sameness. Which is aggravatingly borderline boring! And that my dear readers and fans I can not stand! Not at all. So in the hopes of spicing the fandom up and inspiring change I decided despite my other unfinished and working fics; what the hell?

I'll give this fandom a go!

However, Jokul Frosti still remains my priority, and for now my only lengthy epic, and my main primary focus, in fact it's next chapter is being edited by a friend. Hopefully in the next two weeks I'll have it up.

My Joker fic as I promised a friend is also being worked on, however that one requires me to be in a dark place in order to write it. Which I'm sorry if that sounds weird but it's true, it's hard to right insanity, which is also a reason why Jokul Frosti is taking time in it's updates.

Anyway this fic for the Hobbit is largely an experiment on my part and a predecessor of sorts to a larger fic I'd like to do in the future, but not until the Avengers with Jokul Frosti is finished.

Therefore, this is meant to be a shorter fic then my usual stuff and more loose. I won't say anymore on this, I'll let all of you good people judge this hopefully short story as you will.

A special note on my real life: I have shortened my hours at the 7-11 where I work, for Illustration Work. Wonderful news with this is I have at last achieved a client and a job and been paid in part for it. Therefore much and I do mean MUCH of my time will be otherwise occupied away from my writing. This is sad but true, but look at it this way if I can make a living, I can live to write another day when I have the time!

None of my fics are on hiatus.

I just: between work, trying to make a career, trying to do art for a living, trying to help my struggling parents, and save up money, and looking for future options. I sadly, unless there's a way I can make money off of fanfic writing? Can't only write, also I have decided to start a book.

A story of my own to publish one day.

So things have become busy, but do not my fret dear readers! I never forget a story I weave, and hopefully one day I'll learn how to write faster and better!

In the meantime, tah for now, and forever thanks.

P.S. I am not an expert on Elvish language nor Tolkien, this is not to be taken too seriously this fic, so please no exaggerated critiques if you don't mind, unless you must get it out of your system then by all means have at it! But don't expect a reply I don't usually answer back because I have no time. It's as simple as that I'm afraid.

P.P.S.

_One thing I truly think about fanfiction is this, if your going to change one little thing in a story, then by all means why stop there? Don't hold back, I say change it good and hard! _

_Just like __Granny Weatherwax from Discworld! Pratchet is a genius! _

_Finally Thank you everyone who reads this! I love you all – Ever yours obnoxious Stella!_


	2. Chapter 2: Part 1

A Hobbit Fic:

Chapter 2: Part 1: The Warlens, The Witch, The Spider and the Elf….

..

..

"_Pointy Ear Meats!" _clicked a voice.

There was someone out there laughing.

Milo was sure about this.

"_He's a Pointy Ear Meats! They's hard to chew I heard!"_ clacked a voice conversationally.

Oh yes.

There was no doubt anywhere to be found.

Nope.

Some great being above was laughing at this whole debacle.

Milo was certain about this.

Oh yes indeed.

"_You got a Pointy Ear Meats Milo! What are you going to do with the Pointy Ear Meats?" _clicked and clacked the little voice by Milo's feet merrily, "_Are we goings to eat it?"_

Milo bit the inside of her cheek and sighed, "No. _Clicks. _We are not going to _eat _the _Elf_."

"_Not eat?!"_ clicked the voice in wonder as its _pincers_ shivered, it's many black eyes staring in confusion up at Milo's aggravated face as it crawled along. It's many legs moving in almost a dance like motion across the woodlyn ground, "_Not eat pointy shiny ear meats? Then what? Then what? What Milo do with it?"_

Milo took another deep breath of air, as carrying the wounded elf once more took center stage in the situation Milo's life had unintentionally become.

To think laundry had been the only concern this morning.

"I'm honestly not sure Clicks. I haven't yet decided what to do besides take him home and patch him up," said Milo under the strain of holding excess weight for more then a mile.

'_Elf-Man_ or _Sharp Ears',_ (Milo's two new nicknames for thebag of bones strung across _her_ shoulders), was getting heavier by the second.

Why was she doing this?

Why by the _Stars and Melkors Mate _was she doing this?

Saving an _Elf._

This was crazy, and she knew crazy, her _Family_ promoted crazy!

Nobody in all of _Middle Earth_ could compare with her families knowledge for the definition and subtext of the word crazy.

They'd invented it!

So why in _Melkor's Name _was she doing this?

…

As if to interrupt her questioning tirade '_Sharp Ears' _started slipping off her back so she quickly leaned forward and got him back into place.

Her arms were really starting to ache.

She briefly fought with herself for the hundredth time internally over why she wasn't l_evitating_ him along with the remainder of her washing? Having to once more remind herself that this was an _Elf_ she was carrying and therefore any _Spells _were liable to act peculiar on him.

After all, floating clothes were one thing to manage.

A floating _Elf_ was quite another.

For a start, there were limbs like legs to consider.

Thus overall the _Spell work_ she had to admit would be a bit harder to achieve successfully?

Dark eyebrows rose as she realized she was probably the very first _Warlen,__ much less Witch _to even ruminate over instigating such a thing.

If she cast one thing wrong she could send 'Elf -Man' well above the canopy of the trees and beyond upside down, feet first minus his shiny silver head!

Worse, she could try levitating him and end up inflating him to the point where he would blow up with gas from the inside, rise, and then explode midair much like that toad she'd tried to levitate last week.

.

That poor toad.

_Stars_…she felt bad about that.

..

_._

_._

_Still…. a flying Elf? Eh?_

_Right up in the air!_

Just like one of her elder sister, _Murritza's_ new_ balloon inventions!_

_A flying Elf!_

_Curiosity, _was a terrible thing for one of_ her kind, _they tended to get carried away with it.

_But oh what a sight it would make!_

_A flying Elf!_

An amusing image crossed Milo's mind as she briefly pictured the unconscious _Elf _with his _obnoxiously pretty_ _silver spun hair_ haphazardly floating _upside down _amongst the sky with some startled blue jays for new companions.

The imagined shocked birds reaction to the situation made her lips curve upwards and it didn't help that in her head the scene was made all the more ridiculous as she pictured the _Elf-Man_ in this silly position still _drooling_, as he currently was.

Milo would have laughed at her own imagination, but her arms were too busy begging her to actually succumb to evil desire, and bring just that scenario into being, worst of all she was already halfway tempted to try.

However, people in general might start asking too many questions if _Elves _startedfloating in the clouds.

…

…

.

Then again, (argued the throb in Milo's arms), _Elves _had a bit of magic of their own, didn't they?

Everyone knew that. That was why they were so …._formidable?_

_Although her opinion on that assumed historical fact was beginning to shift exponentially._

Milo debated internally with herself, "Would a flying _Elf_ truly be that impossible to believe here on _Middle Earth_?"

The more Milo thought on it the more practical it seemed.

Besides she was very good at making clothes _float._

For proof, there was the _floating _wardrobe behind her, so why not try?

Levitation and flying spells are only a few shades of a petal different.

_She could do it._

_Couldn't she?_

…_._

_.._

_It would be something to see. It would also be a first. Her kind loved, loved doing Firsts! _

It would also make quite an amusing tale to tell her future offspring if she ever got lucky enough to find a mate.

Why she could just see the beginnings of her new _bedtime story_, "Come here my lovely snots and let me tell you how I once levitated a _real Elf_ above Mirkwood Forest! He had pointy ears and silver hair and everything!"

..

..Tempting….

_Temmmmppppttting…._

That's what this whole situation was. _Temptation…._but could she do it?

…_.._

_..Could she?..._

_.._

_Of course she could._

_She definitely could do it! _

_She was a Witch wasn't she?_

_Heck! She was __The Witch!_

_Warlen born- Mad Magic in the blood!_

_In fact by the Stars! Why was she debating it?_

_She would do it!_

_.._

_._

_.._

_Possible mistakes and unforeseen retributions for her choice in actions be damned!_

…

_.._

_._

Milo took a deep breath, and began to prepare herself for _spell work _when she took a small peripheral glance over her left shoulder at the unconscious _Elf._

That _distracted _her.

The _Elf_ had a rather fine comely face despite the injuries and scarring, this was a detail she had noticed on the riverbank but now? Well now, she found his face was starting to turn an interesting color palette of mottled bruises on his right side.

Oddly enough it didn't necessarily detract from his, she supposed _elvish good looks, _but it did make him look just a tad bit more _pitiful_, which _irked _her.

After all weren't _Elves _the whole reason her _kind _stayed _hidden _all over the world in general?

Mortal enemies and all that nonsense!?

Powerful arrow shooting, pointy-eared_ daemons_ that _lacked any fur and negotiation skills?_

The ultimate so-called _'Fiends of Legend'_, she'd been told about at bedtime since birth?

_The Elves?_

Those heartless _monsters_ who'd exterminated the _Vampires?_

Who'd brutally and without mercy crushed the _Werewolves?_

Strange _sinister things_ that had _slain_ hard working _Goblins_ and innocent _Trolls_ alike?

((Albeit Milo would fairly point out that it was hard to find a truly innocent _troll, _they tended to be a bit _thick headed_ and that was putting it nicely on a good day.))

Milo glanced again at the _Elf,_ who was now _whimpering, _in his state of unconsciousness.

_This?_

_This _was the _creature_, who was _hunting and killing_ her _Familiar, Clicks, cousins _all over the forest?

And thereby messing with her _potion ingredients_ and in turn her _web weaving, one of a kind protection spelled cloth-making business _operations!

'_This?'_

_This _beat up, pitiful looking, whimpering, drooling, _nicely proportioned_, silver haired soft skinned _male _specimen of a _pathetic_ male was a fearsome_ Elf?_

'_This was an Elf?!'_

_This. _

Needless to say Milo was finding herself a _tad disappointed_.

The way her _Family History _had gone on about them, she'd expected him to _combust _or start _mauling her to death_ about halfway through the forest?

She glanced at him again and sighed as another whimper emanated from his lips.

He looked about as dangerous as a '_bloody daffodil.'_

Worse off, there was no way she could _levitate_ him now without feeling _guilty_ if something went wrong.

After all she was suppose to be _rescuing _him and well….she still had that darn toad stuck in her head.

That poor, poor toad.

' _Bedknobs and Brooms! Pity. Such a damn pity! A flying Elf, would have made a great story,' she thought frowning. _

"_Oh well…," _Milo huffed and stole a few more glances at '_Sharp Ears'_, when they reached her house the first thing she was going to do was _brew _up one of her special _healing balms_.

It would clear all that _scarring on his left cheek and discoloring _up quite nicely!

She was excellent at _Regenerative Solutions._

She bragged internally to herself, as once again her arms begged her to do something about the weight they held.

"Ugh…" Milo groaned in frustration as her lower back throbbed.

This is how _fate_ got back at her for going without her _Broom _everywhere_. _

_((Although her brain argued simultaneously in a voice that sounded very suspiciously like her growling older brother, "If you couldn't levitate the Elf safely in confidence what makes you think you can fly with him, dear Millasia?"))_

She wasn't that terrible with _flying spells?_

True…she had _crashed_ once or twice into a '_few_ _things' _in her life_, _but that was what part of learning how to _fly _was all about!

So what if she couldn't exactly stay on a _broom_ at her age!

In another hundred years she'd be an expert!

Enough said.

She could even, (after hours of effort) _levitate _herself off the ground to gather various things on occasion, who cares that she needed to bring a _mattress_ to land on, whenever she committed herself to such activity.

Who cares that she was the only _Warlen Witch_ deeply afraid of heights!

That was no reason for why she couldn't _levitate _another living creature, right?

Right.

_Riiiggghttt._

"_Milo Pointy meats is making water again,"_ reported Clicksfrom beside her.

Wonderful, the _Elf-Man_ was _drooling _again!

Thank _Stars, _this was an old shirt Milo had on and they were getting closer to home. Otherwise _she_ was afraid she'dpass out from disgust and exhaustion with the_ Elf _right on top of _her _and then they'd both end up dead_!_

Where-upon, Clicks would proceed to eat them so their remains wouldn't go to waste.

Milo shuddered in revolt at the idea!

Milo _loved _Clicks but didn't fancy the idea of being eaten by _Spider_.

Even though it would have been considered an _honor _for Clicks to eat the flesh of a _friend,_ it still never quite became a tradition Milo could fully embrace of Click's _Kind. _

_((The descendants of Ungoliant, the Great She Spider and the first Great Familiar created by Melkor the dark Valar, gifted to his Mate, she the Nameless, the First Warlen_, _the first Witch.))_

'_My ancestor,_' pondered Milo a bit bitterly, 'probably didn't have trouble _flying, _so why do I?' It just wasn't fair. All _fifteen_ of her siblings could easily zoom about on brooms etc, so why was it only a struggle for her?'

It didn't make any sense!

"_Uhhhhh," _moaned _the Elf_ by her head causing droplets of drool to fall near Clicks' eight hairy brown scurrying legs.

"_Your Pointy Ear Meat is leaking rain water. Smelly rain water at that?"_ observed the Spider, "_Milo? Why bring home? Why not eat? You say 'patch' do you mean hatch? Like mate? He's male meat. I smell male. You smell him too! You mate with the Pointy Ear Male Meat?"_

Milo was so shocked by Click's question that her previously normal looking _human ears _**shifted form** andshot up from under her short dark hair into two large startled _**humanoid skinned feline ones!**_Not unlike that of what one would find on a startled _bobcat._

"_What?! WHAT! WHAT DID YOU SAY CLICKS?" _hissed and sputtered Milo!

"_Mate Meat."_ answered Clicks simply.

If it hadn't been for Milo's _instinctive magic_, there would have been two figures suddenly sprawled on the ground and one smushed Spider, "WHAT! Honestly! You _Spiders_! Is mating and eating all your _kind_ really thinks about Clicks?"

In seeing his Mistresses face flesh change color to that of a deep red berry, Clicks the Spider, decided silence was the best course of action in regards to thatquestion.

_Milo with two now __**humanoid skin-like dark tipped bob cattish ears**__ sticking straight up out the sides of her head began to vent her vexation to the unlucky familiar! The raven-haired __**female Warlen **__let loose a full-scale tirade at the horrible suggestion, her ears falling back at one point flat against her skull in that ancient angry feline pose that all animals understand to be wary of, as her face turned the bright red shape of a tomato._

"BROOMS! _ME _MATE AN _ELF_! CLICKS! Don't be ridiculous! STARS! I haven't even known him for a day! What's more, one of _mine _with one of _his_!? A _Witch_ with an _ELF?! _Why Clicks if this _ELF_ even knew what I was! WHY! Why? He'd probably …he'd probably….well see that's just it! Isn't it?! _His _kind doesn't even know _my_ kind exist! So there will be NO _mating_. The VERY IDEA! You've been tapping into my _Swamp Fly Box _again haven't you Clicks! _CLICKS! Answer me this instant Clicks!_"

After this proclamation there proceeded to be a short debate over what the proper amount of _'fly consumption was'_ between a _witch and her pet familiar._

If any other travelers in M_iddle Earth _had been lucky enough to be currently present they would have no doubt stopped to stare in alarm at the arguing duo.

Which would have appeared to be at first glance a '_human boy',_ (minus the angry _folded down strange pale fleshed tone dark tipped_ _cat ears),_ and a '_terrier like'_ dog sized brown_ Spider_. Who after the crescendo of the argument, later would have seemed to crawl along in a rather more forlornly manner by it's more _human_ looking companion in the Southern Forest of _Mirkwood _at the end of their little 'tete-a-pincer.'

For a while besides a few grunts the _Witch, Familiar, and the Elf _were all silent.

Thirty minutes following the argument however, _Clicks the Spider_ couldn't stop himself from trying to get more information out of his irritated _Mistress._ So he decided to try asking her again, what it was that she was going to do with the strange '_Shiny Pointy Male Meat'_.

_Spiders _can be extremely determined when they need to be and Clicks amiably tried to resume the conversation by clacking, "_So Milo carries big male Pointy Ear Meat back with us to nest?" _in as innocent a tone as pincers can convey.

Milo was so miffed still over the previous '_swamp fly'_ argument that she didn't respond right away.

Instead she stayed silent, and her _ears _still being in their _Natural Warlen born form _performed an _instinctual mannerism_ that any _cat lover_ would have recognized as the _cat saying nonverbally, _"I'm really pissed your interrupting my nap so whatever you have to say better be good."

_The mannerism was thus:_ one ear of Milo's remained pressed flat back against her head while the other cocked up just a tad to hear what Clicks had to say.

Unfortunately spiders are _not_ very good at picking up pointed delays in conversation or general _two footed creatures irritation_.

They lack appropriate distinguishing sensors.

Thus Clicks asked again via a small chirp, "_Milo? Take meat home?"_

"_What? Oh._ Yes, yes I am," answered Milo finally, matter of factly.

"_At nest tell Pointy Meat what Milo is?"_

"Perhaps."

She hadn't really thought that far ahead, come to think of it?

"Uhhhnn…." groaned the _Elf, _inhelpful conversation contribution_._

'Maybe I should just put him out of his misery here and now?' thought Milo, 'It would save a lot of trouble.'

"_Then what?" _piped up Clicks with a questioning clack.

Milo didn't answer.

"_Milo? Milo?" _queried Clicks.

Silence.

"_Mistress? Milo? Mistress?" _asked Clicks again his pincers rattling.

Spiders were not very good at picking up when they were being deliberately ignored for other more prominent mental ponderings.

"_Milo? Mistress? Lady Millasia? Milo? Then what? Then What? What? What we do? Not eat? Not eat pointy male meat? Why? We should eat him Mistress! Why not eat? What then? What? What? Mistress? Missssstresssss?"_ clacked Clicks growing louder and louder, while adding a few arachnid hisses of frustration in, the more the prolonged silence went.

Finally Milo's willpower bent and her control snapped like a broken twig!

She felt herself _shape shift right down to her six clawed toes _under her boots_!_

But she didn't care!

_Worries over possible exposure be ignored!_

_Besides the Forest was practically empty to begin with!_

_She needed to think and Clicks wasn't helping!_

"_BEDKNOBS AND BROOMS CLICKS! _Look, I just don't know! It's not like I planned this, _Great Melkor's Mate,_ knows that if any of _THE FAMILY _found out I'd be boiled in oil for a week! OIL! OIL CLICKS! OR USED AS A SQUID BAIT!" shouted Milo, with her _tiny canine fangs_ now biting her fairly fuller lower lip.

"And that's ONLY if _Mother Mabriz_ never discovers this!" Milo fretted as very slowly her mind began to catch up _with just exactly_ how many current _Family Rules_ she was in the midst of breaking.

Too many!

Far too many!

At the rate she was currently going she'd outdo even her _Uncle_ _Varinz _who once had the wonderful idea of allowing a _Balrog _to _visit the capital city of __**The Hidden Kingdom.**_

_To this day Mother Mabriz had never forgiven him._

_Granted it was hard to forgive someone who was responsible for the destruction of over half of the Capital City's town square and the Castle itself but….he was Family?_

_One should always forgive and __love__ Family?_

_One should always try to give Family a second chance?_

_One could always rely on Family to be merciful and fair, right?_

Oh. Who was she fooling?

She was toast.

Thank the _Stars _her sister _Murritza_ wasn't here or her beloved _Aunty Viv._

Milo could just see the scorn on their faces if they found out about her helping an _Elf_!

'Oh _Melkor's Mate! _What am I _doing!'_ Milo asked herself.

'_Uncle Varinz had been smart enough to get off the continent and become a __Sea Warlock __immediately after the Balrog had been taken care of,' _Milo reflected sullenly.

_Because the horrid truth was even if __Mother Mabriz, the Current Queen of the Hidden Kingdom __had forgiven Uncle Varinz, (one whole century later), the Family __Grand Matriarch and Retired Queen__, Milo's great grandmother __Granny MuhBaba__. Still kept a special Flute of Shame and a set of Skin Skewers under her bedroom mattress, just for Uncle's Varinz's next arrival home!_

Milo could still hear in her head, her _Great Grandmother's _snarling voice complete with mad cackle, in regards to her _Uncle _stating quite calmly, "Patience is key me liddle _toothache_. Patience is key. And then once the prey's good and relaxing in goes the _claw! _That's when ye snap its neck sharp! _Aye. _Ye snap it and if'n ye quick enough you stab it's eyes out! Aye. Ruining your Grand-Da's castle! His father's! Pfft! That Varinzzz..(hissss snarl)…Aye…patience. (mumble- _Varinzzz-_growl) Patience. Patience me ole heart. Will gets um. _We __always __do."_

_F__ear of Granny MuhBaba__, to this day kept her poor Uncle Varinz from setting a pawed foot off his ship, whenever he came to port._

_In fact, for the longest time in the name of survival, her dear Uncle had even gone as far as ordering his entire crew to outright lie to everyone and anyone in the __**Hidden Kingdom's Harbor**__, who dared to ask on his whereabouts whenever he came home to port._

"_That Giant Squido ate em!" the crew would answer if any citizen asked, or they would say, "Aye poor ole Captain Varinz became Shark bait to some h'orrrible Monstro!" or even Milo's old amusing favorite fib, "The Captain's turned into a Seabird and got stuck that way!" would be given to the skeptical Warlen public and the ruse lasted for a few decades. _

_Eventually though …the truth came out when one fated day her older sister Murritza at the age of 130, ((_The Warlen equivalent of twelve years old versus human years))_ had apparently decided to become a sailor and stolen away onboard Uncle Varinz's vessel._

_Obligated and having little choice, with fur standing on end her Uncle Varinz had to turn his ship around, and in returning his sister's eldest granddaughter back home, Mother Mabriz had granted her brother clemency, but Granny MuhBaba hadn't! _

_According to her older sister Murritza and her older brother Mirrazz, it had taken all five of Milo's older siblings plus her three Aunts and her two other Uncles to hold Granny MuhBaba back from committing murder. _

_Whereupon, her great grandmother had been left with only the ability to glare at Uncle Varinz with all her claws extended, as he made his way along the dock to return young Princess Murritza to dry land. _

_Apparently though, a glare from Great Granny fully enraged was all that was needed. _

_Murritza would still laugh six hundred years later at how their Uncle had taken one look at Granny and according to the shared memory of all five of her older siblings present at the time, he had immediately bolted back on board his ship as fast as his britches could carry him!_

_When Milo, in her __kit years__ around the age of 105, had asked her Uncle about this incident while sitting on his knee, inside the Captains Cabin of his ship, he had simply told her this, "Aye me bonnie darling tentacle, I did indeed run for my fur! Me six toes couldn't carry me fast enough! Aye. Because though I be one mighty __Seafaring Warlock__ on this ere __**Middle Earth**__, I ain't about to tango with your beloved detestable, and most malevolent Granny. Me mum as a most …bloodthirsty disposition when she wants it! Aye. Have you by any chance seen her scarecrow for her garden?! That was once her second finance don't cha know, me little tuna darling, Millasia! Aye."_

…_._

_.._

_. _

Milo loved her _Uncle Varinz_.

When it came to good advice, he was in truth one of the best at it in the _Family, _and she knew that even he would have trouble accepting what it was she was doing right now.

Namely _saving_ an _Elf._

"_Stars_ forbid that _Granny MuhBaba _finds out about this. Why if _Mother Mabriz doesn't _flay me, _Granny _will make me part of her skeleton furniture!" whined Milo.

She could see herself and Clicks, _hanging_ in some _coffin_ off the _Old Warlen Witch Queen's porch_ with the rest of _Granny MuhBaba's _ill-favored guests or ill-mannered acquaintances, as newly appointed _'chicken fodder'._

Those giant white clucking _monstrosities _more akin to '_Cockatrices_', would peck her to death just like that poor _Goblin Merchant _her _Granny _had felt insulted by when she was nineteen, ((in **Kit Years**.))

Brooms!

If she closed her eyes hard enough, she could still hear the screams that had echoed up into _Granny's kitchen _as she had sat there as a mere _**kit.**_ Eating a lemon cake that somehow had been made by the same _sadistic _legendary _witch _just for her.

Heck…she could still remember how her _Granny had chortled,_ as she had handed the younger version of herself a fork while glancing out the kitchen window at the mutilated _Goblin, _down below_._

"CLICKS! In NO WAY are _GRANNY MUHBABA_ and _MOTHER MABRIZ_ TO EVER, and I mean EVER, find out about this! You understand! Our lives depend on it Clicks!" ordered Milo.

She was not going to become '_Chicken Fodder'_ over some blasted _pretty_ silver-haired drooling _Elf!_!

******************************************************(Page Break)

Clicks, had been watching his _Mistress _in concerned interest, when at the mention of the two mighty_ Warlen Witch Matriarch's _namesClicks gave a spider's version of a shudder.

Spider's oddly enough of the _Familiar Affiliation _have excellent memories and so Clicks could easily spring to mind both figures of which his _Mistress _was speaking.

Clicks had only just hatched with his other two billion siblings when he had first laid his lycosidae eyes on the mighty _Warlen Witch Queen Mabriz _nicknamed _Mother Mabriz, (_due to her many grandchildren and now great grandchildren)_._

And never had he experienced anything worse to this day!

He could remember it all.

If Clicks had been born with some mammalian eyelids he would have promptly closed all eight of his round little black eyes tight in fright at _Mother Mabriz's _appearance!

Instead Clicks had in his horror fallen off the thorny branch where the spider nest had lain that he had been born from in the _Hidden Kingdom's Palace Garden_ and by shear chance had managed to produce his first web to catch himself on some lower level branch.

The impression _the Residing Warlen Queen_ had made on the rest of his siblings had been _enough to send half of his fellow nestlings risking life and limb to cross the __Sea of Helcat __just to get away!_

Clicks would have risked the dreadful _sea _too if it had not been for the gentle little _witch child's_ claw belonging to _Mother Mabriz's dear granddaughter _to unexpectantly intervene.

It was in that same moment of Click's absolute terror, _Queen Mabriz's third born granddaughter_ had plucked him ever so carefully from his first webbing to hold him in her soft _kittenish_ palms and giggle delightfully at him.

It had been what the _Warlens _call a '_Star Struck Moment'!_

Why even now four hundred years later Clicks could still feel that first moment of _destined _eternal bonding pulse _magically _within him.

There he, little Clicks, had been hopelessly dangling by a poorly managed thread of web and spinning around upside down in terrified circles, (most embarrassing to a Spider) when, _Princess Millasia of the Warlens, the Third born Witch of the Royal Warlen Family__,_ had spotted him from around her grandmother's skirts.

Next thing Clicks knew there had been a soft little girls voice cooing at him, "Hee hee. Silly. (giggle) Silly! Spidy! No no! Cannae make a web that way. (giggle) Look Muther Mabbie! Look at this one!"

As Clicks had felt tiny gentle claws come to hold him in small little hands, ((hands that were ironically huge to Click's perspective)) the world of _Middle Earth _to the spider had finally stopped spinning, just long enough for him to hear the voice of _Mother Mabriz _say that he should be thrown yonder?!

Clicks had barely gotten his bearings but all eight of his legs had curled instinctively into a tight ball at this unforeseen sentence! Yonder hadn't sounded particular good.

It was then curled up in a tiny little makeshift spider ball that Clicks had _felt a calming wave of energy, (that he would later recognize to be his Mistresses magic) flow over him encasing him in gentle safe comfort._

Then Clicks in feeling better had raised his little black eyes where they'd laid on _her _for the first time.

_His Princess. His beloved friend and bonded companion for life the Lady Millasia._

_His Witch. _

_Milo._

Clicks could still look on his _Mistress, ((_even now when she was struggling to carry some weird pointy eared '_Elf-thing' on her back while shouting her fears in the air at random))_,and see decades later the same _kindness _in herthat had rescued him that first day of his insignificant spidery life.

Why, Clicks could even still remember how at _Queen Mabriz's _words young _Millasia _of about _six years old _had declared with all the authority that only an angry six year old can that in no way whatsoever was her new '_friend spider'_ to be thrown anywhere!

Much less to a place called Yonder, wherever the _Great Web_ that was!

At her insistence and the small signs of a _familiars bonding,_ _Mother Mabriz, _had not onlyallowed the young witch to keep her new spider at the time. Much to the joy of all present, but encouraged her _granddaughter_ to take good care of him, but only after she had demanded that the young Milo was to give him, Clicks, a name.

"_For there is great magic in such small simple things as he, my Kit! Thus you shall name thy little friend and as like your brother so shall your magic tutelage begin!"_

A young _Millasia_ had then peered into Clicks tiny eyes and giggled, "Allo?"

Not knowing what to do exactly then. Clicks had merely unfolded his long legs and rolled out of his tiny ball to click and clack his small pincers in greeting back at the gentle large creature that had carefully been holding him, "_Big Thing. What is? What is? No drop! No drop!"_

"(Giggle giggle) Hee Hee. He _Clicks _when he talks,_ Muther Mabbie!" _young _Millasia _had cheerfully observed_._

"_So he does my wonder," Mother Mabriz _had repliedinmild adult bemusement, black skirts rustling.

"_I will name him Clicks! His name is Clicks!"_ and so it was that Clicks the Spider had become the _Lady Millasia's familiar._

To this very day.

Splat!

Clicks made the equivalent of a Spider's frown.

…Drip.

…..Drop.

…..Drop.

…..Drip.

…..Plop.

Drop….Drip.

Splat! Went the smelly fluid falling yet again from the '_Elf thing' _that his_ Mistress _was currently carrying. Honestly, if it were up to Clicks they would have eaten the dying _pointy meat_ hours ago and saved a lot of _Sun Time_!

Plus Clicks wouldn't have to worry about smelly fluid falling on him!

Drip.

Drip.

Plop!

Also Clicks would still be allowed some of _Mistresses Swamp Flies she kept in one of her Potion Ingredients Boxes!_

Drip.

The _Elf-thing _wasa nuisance!

Drip.

Plop.

Plop.

Splat!

If Clicks had been capable of sneering in disgust at the _Elf-Thing_ lying on his _Mistress_ he would have been, instead he could only manage to snap his pincers.

_Poor Clicks had to walk!_

_Poor Clicks couldn't ride on Mistresses shoulder or head because Mistress had too much to carry already!_

_Poor ground and poor Mistress was getting covered in the smelly stinking yucky water coming from 'Elf-Thing's' open pores!_

_Clicks hated Water!_

_Spiders in general don't appreciate Water. _

_Water is not a Spiders friend!_

Plop.

Drip.

Plop.

"Worse of all," spoke _Mistress Milo_ in a now irritated huffing voice shaking Clicks from his own derogatory thoughts, "will be if my dear sweet beloved older brother _Mi__rrazz _gets wind of this! You remember _him _Clicks? Don't you?"

Clicks twitched his back abdomen in a spider shrug, which _one of his Mistresses siblings was that one again?_

"He put you in a bucket of _water_ once with a lid and tried to see if he could teach _you,_ a _Spider, my familiar, _how to _swim_." helped Milo, as she raised an eyebrow and gave Clicks a pointed look.

For a brief second everything in Click's arachnid brain blacked out.

Memories of darkness and more pressing _wetness_ assaulted Click's mind in savage recollection! As a smarmy purring cockney silky voice like a twisted web of it's own said somewhere from above him in the background with a tone of what one could only classify as 'sadistically gleeful', offered enthusiastic encouragement to his suffering!

"_There, there my dear fellow! You have to backstroke! Remember those leg exercises I tried to demonstrate earlier! Well now it'ss time to give them a Go! Come on my purrrecious, you can do better then that! Try the Butterfly! Here let me add some more water. I'm quite certain you'll get the HANG of it! Yesss. Quite certain, prrreciousss!" _

UNGOLIANTS PINCERS!

HIM!

HIM.

HIM!

Himmmm…..

Did Clicks remember HIM?!

Was that supposed to be some sort of _Witch's_ trick question?

How in the mighty webbing of the world known as _Middle Earth_ was Clicks suppose to ever forget that **Nightmare **or better yet… _HIM!_

With those hideous sharp fanged predatory incisors! That twisted smile of a smirk and those terrible golden glowing cat slit eyes!

Clicks exposed his really _good stinger_ and snapped his pincers viciously, "_BAD WARLOCK!"_

MIRRAZZ the ENEMY!

It didn't matter if that ONE was _**Master Warlock High Prince of the Royal Warlen Family **__or even that HE was Millasia's oldest brother, firstborn grandchild of __Mother Mabriz__!_

_It didn't even matter that he was first in line for the __**Throne**_, to the enraged Arachnidwhen the chance arose Clicks would still bite _HIM!_

_AND BITE HIM HARD! _

Milo chuckled wickedly at Clicks angry display, "Ah. Yes I thought you might recall dear clever _M__irrazz. _Just imagine _his _reaction to what I'm doing right now. Why if he found out I was saving some _Elf, _he'd no doubt either laugh until his pompous head rolled off his shoulders at my audacity or he'd probably_ turn me inside out!"_ stressed Milo albeit jokingly with a bit of seriousness.

_Melkor's Mate_ what would her older brother do?!

_Stars above only knew._

Milo paused in her steps, as uncertainty consumed her.

'What was she doing?' she thought for the millionth time.

Meanwhile, Clicks murderously, speculated the question, 'How does one _bite a __**Warlock**_and _live_?'

As Clicks pondered homicidal techniques of the spider's skill set, namely _stalk and sting, _Milo's own inner question was left unanswered.

Suddenly the sounds of the _Elf's _moans, changed breaking both the Witch and Spider's thoughts. Inarticulate groans turned into soft spoken desperately pleading words in what Milo guessed was the _Elf's_ native tongue,

"ughhhhleg… .sssdreg-….gwil..nin red…_fly…nin …iond…nin…meleth...Hiril vuin…..Ionneg….ion…..legola.s. Eru...edraith.."_

To Middle Earth's very first would be Spider assassin the voice of the _Elf-Thing_ sounded new but relatively just as unimpressive as every other _two-footer_.

To the _Witch _however, the surprising notes of the _Elf's_ pleasantly baritone voice reached a direct hit for the _female Warlens__,_ unfortunate but quite concerned '_soul_'. And roamed their way deep within not only her psyche but her still very exposed _un-shape shifted_ _natural born sensitive catlike ears!_

Where the hums of the _Elf's voice_ felt like the brushing of some misplaced _tide_ of the _ocean _that had in bumping into Milo's inner eardrum, seemed to misread her, for their _long lost_ _shore_, in an _enchanting cadence_ that gave her body u_nwelcomed shivers._

Oh. No.

Oh. No.

'Bad enough he s_mells _like _rich warm earth,_ _moonlight and fresh cut pine!' _

Oh. No.

Oh. No.

'Or that his hair looks like _silver spun Starlight and each strand that grazes me feels like precious silk!'_

Twitch.

Oh. No.

Twitch.

No!

NO!

_Millasia felt her ears twitch again, and her Magic Spark!_

_Sweet Brooms this! This wasn't going to happen!_

_She was __sparking!_

_Oh no, she wasn't going to start doing this!_

_She was not going to __twitch__ her feline ears! _

_Stars above not for an Elf!_

_That shouldn't even be possible!?_

_A pitiful Elf at that!_

_A half-dead Elf on top of it!_

_Besides he was drooling on her again!_

_That was gross! _

_Not attractive!_

One hundred percent awful!

Not. Attractive.

'Yes. Don't think of tides. Think Drool. Millasia,' Milo commanded herself mentally.

"Drool is gross!" she chanted to herself.

Clicks paused in his _evil plotting_ to stop and stare at his _Mistress_, "_Milo?"_

_She was going mental that was all there was to it, she was finally loosing it._

Milo huffed at herself and her inappropriate timing for _metaphors_, as she took deliberate steps to readjust the position of the '_Drooling Elf-Man_ on her back', before resuming travel.

She then took a deep breath and _shifted _her ears back into more _human _looking ones for safety's sake, even though it added to her discomfort, still anything to take her focus away from those previously _insane_ thoughts.

There was no time for dwelling on _craziness_ or such…._random twitching of ears, _"He's in a bad way enough as it is and there's no use in us worrying or fretting Clicks. Besides were almost home, I just hope the _Woodmen_ and the _Woses _don't come calling for any of my _potion remedies _today. It will be hard enough just getting _Sharp Ears here _to live through the night," stated Milo aloud firmly.

Yes, Priorities and professionalism that's what was required here, as Milo narrowed her eyes on the wooded path before her.

Silence resumed for awhile between the disguised _witch _as a 'human looking boy' and the small dog sized spider at her heels, as they made their way south of the _Mountains of Mirkwood_ with the _River_ _Running _on their left and the _Old Forest Road _ahead.

Once they were beyond the _Old Forest Road _they would be nearly home, to what the local woodmen of _Mirkwood _called _Magic Milo's House._

"_Uhhh…edraith…edraith….melanin….aen…darth…nin….el…ion…"_ begged the _Sindarin Elf _upon her back again in obvious delirium.

His _beautiful_ voice choking up in unhidden anguish as Milo felt drops that weren't drool but his _tears_ fall, prickling the back of her exposed neck's soft skin.

'_Oh dear' she cursed inwardly._

_Milo had to really fight herself to stop her body from reacting at such intimate contact. _

_No one had mentioned this to her, in her lessons on Elves growing up?_

_Was the Elf's voice supposed to make her want to sing the Stars down and her ears twitch happily?_

_Maybe he was more dangerous then she thought? _

Milo gulped.

For _her kind, __for Warlens__,_ there were few greater acts of trust given amongst them then the act of sharing _tears_, and the _Elf's _kept falling right onto that small space of her exposed skin, via the side of her neck.

It was a great act of intimacy.

For through them she could once again_ feel _the _Elf's internal suffering and fear._

_As another tear fell her magic once more sparked and she let out a sigh._

_She could never resist giving comfort for pain when it felt necessary._

_Her skill was in healing after all._

_Therapeutic potions and salves _that is what she was known for, amongst other darker things, in any case it was what she preferred to be known for out of her talents.

So it couldn't hurt could it?

She'd broken so many rules to begin with already her body seemed determined to act against her, the tears having caused an interesting hurricane of feeling.

_What was one more broken rule?_

_True he was an Elf but she was already past the point of no return anyways?_

Said _Elf _let out a mournful _little_ _sob_, that could have made a doe weep, and in response Milo closed her dark brown eyes. She breathed in a deep breath of musky woodland air, and when she opened her eyes again her irises held a _sparkling glowing_ _silver rim, as her pupils dilated unto the point of becoming slits. _

_The woods and earth began to thrum through her as with a portion of her magic she spoke in the secret ancient tongue of the Warlens._

Only the most ancient trees of the forest could have described the melody of Milo's inhuman voice as it became something as if from some other world's _mystical_ dream.

_Melodious, old new and yet dark, gentle but ever so eerie, it was a small calming spell, a lullaby of sorts to the hidden Witches of Middle Earth. _

_Roughly translated it was Millasia's song to the Elf that the __Stars of Melkor's Mate__ were watching over him and those he treasured. And that the __Great Night__ would once again arise to bring Day's taxing turmoil to rest._

_In essence all would be well and as it should be. _

_So he need not cry or drool on her anymore today. Thank you very much. _

When she had finished the woodland life of _Mirkwood _remained silent in wonder and the _Elf _fell into a far deeper state of slumber.

At the _Elf's _change in demeanor Milo couldn't hold back the small self-satisfied smug grin, while Clicks stared up in surprise at his _Mistress._

"_Pointy Ear Meat, must be very important? If Mistress was spell weaving healing magick's,"_ thought the curiously baffled arachnid.

***************************************************(End of Part 1.)

Disclaimer: So it's been too long since I've updated any of my fics and I want to make this little author's note as brief as possible considering this is **only the first part **of the **second chapter** for the Witch Woman of Mirkwood! To make a long story short, I don't own the Hobbit, and in an attempt to try to update three of my fandom stories at the same time, for an updating pallooza, I instead ended up unable to update any!

This is a horrible calamity that has happened and I hope to rectify it soon so please **all fans for all stories** bear with me! And I am so sorry, real life is just difficult what can I say.

Anywho: I have yet to see the last movie of the Hobbit Trilogy, I'm honestly just going to go with my initial idea's for this fic, and so thus This story and the Avengers and Jokul Frosti are my priorities, while my Joker fic will be worked on as well.

Again I want this to be a short and brief disclaimer: I apologize if my writing is lousy, **please read at your own peril!** I'm the type who pleases themselves first, so again sorry for disappointments, I can't please everyone, them's the breaks!

Thank you to all followers and any reviews for any stories given! Your support means the world!

No story is on hiatus! I repeat NO FIC IS ON HIATUS! I'm simply **slow ** but hey good news I'm not dead!

I shall now return to typing! Love &amp; hugs, and if my story seems confusing well give it time, all will be clarified eventually once I get things rolling more quickly!

You all have the patience of saints! Bless you!-Stella Limegood.


	3. Chapter 2: Part 2

**BEFORE YOU READ THIS CHAPTER PLEASE LOOK UP ****RIK MAYALL**** VIA YOUTUBE: THE CHARACTER I'VE CREATED NAMED MIRRAZZ, NARRATING BELOW, WAS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY HIM AND HAS HIS VOICE WITH ALL IT'S CHARM! **

** watch?v=G_X_7TrcHGM**

**His role as Prince Froglip particularly: watch?v=2FsFF1oaoOc**

_A Hobbit Fic:_

_Chapter 2: Part 2: The Warlens, The Witch, The Spider and the Elf…._

_*(__**Location: Somewhere far, far, far northeast of Esgaroth and Rhun lying amongst the mountains beyond Cuivienen near Utumno…)**__)*_

History.

There is I fear some explaining needed to be done in regards to history.

History is fascinating.

It is also very important.

The reason it is important is simple.

It's because it is filled with facts that keep everything straight.

It tells the truth of what has been, and in some ways by that it tells people what could come next.

So when things go missing or every now and then some random thing like a specific word pops up that never existed before.

Especially lets say mmm oh..for..example…, in the use of a title for some ridiculous buffoon trying to destroy stuff for no apparent reason whatsoever, other then a fast promotion level, up the old evil lord ladder of course, like …. oh maybe, mm…, "**The Witch-King of Angmar**."

One would think people would pay more attention.

One would dare I expect purrrecious, to think that people would notice such an odd, misplaced, most peculiar word, essspecially in hearing such a magnanimouss title?

And it is magnanimous isn't it?

Ha.

Regardless one might assume that people would then ask a seriess of questions pertaining to such a queer specific and outlandish word?

Questions that would arise, that even a child could figure out!

Given all things time.

Namely one question in particular, my pet, such as, "What is a **Witch?"**

A simple question is it not? But for the world that is, namely **Middle Earth**, also known by some as **Arda**, of which we so happily reside in, it is for some baffling reason unasked and overall not even pondered?

It's true!

One could go as far as saying the question doesn't even exist!

The race of men certainly hasn't a clue, and the dwarves well…there so blinded by pebbles that they couldn't find a hint even if it came in the form of a diamond.

However, if the question had been asked by anyone living in Middle Earth particularly during the time of the Second Age through the Third, many things would have undoubtly drastically changed preciousss and further more many individuals would have found themselves shocked to realize that there are in fact large gaping holes in absolutely everybody's sodding recorded history!

(Save our own. Yes. I'm afraid our kind our the only ones holding a full deck.)

The Elvess…. particularly one El-rond, son of a so-called Earendil and Elwing, would have been and be very upset, (as I've come to understand it by our devoted spies) to learn that they are missing vital information.

And they do 'l**ove**' their information don't they.…which makes me wonder?

..

Ahem.

Nonetheless my dearzss, the fact is that there are pages of history that have been lost to the majority of peoples on this tiny planet. It could even be said that there is a great deal of history that has been…well to put it precisely pet, blatantly tampered with.

This is a horrifying thing to be certain and one can only ask the questions, "Why? Why would anyone tamper with elvish records, Dwarvish records and even that two footed mutated ape's record, (Oh yes, excuse me, Man's, cough)? Why and Who!? Who would dare such a disturbing disregard for the truth?! How utterly ghastly!"

Hee..Hee..cough…cough.. Ahem.

There are two wonderful answers to these questions, my precious bug bite, the first is that it was quite possibly too much fun not to try tampering with them. So they had to be for sanity's sake. And the second more pragmatic reason for messing about all Middle Earth records was done by those who considered survival their foremost priority as a species.

Therefore much of Middle Earth's history has and was indeed skewed a bit.

Just. A. Bit.

Darling.

Nothing too dramatic, really.

I mean may I ask you, must one know every species and people that lives in a world?

Some things like enigma prrrecious, purrrivacy, ssspace, solitude,SANCTUARY**!**!

Not too mention a right to stay out of it All!

Right?

Exactly.

In fact there was I dare say a very particular hope when the tampering was done; of us being deliberately forgotten, ignored, and most importantly not slain by closed-minded pointy eared racial groups who are partial to bows and arrows.

We won't name name's pet.

Names have power after all. First lesson of Magic.

Yes. Let us instead just say that some non-specific shiny knife eared individuals may have had a small problematic tendency at one time for a misguided prejudice against oh say?

Those of us who originate from another species who were created or held relations in regards to- the fallen-Valar named Melkor, whom was also called Morgoth.

Most well known on Middle Earth as the Dark God etc. etc., that waged war against all the other bloody blooming Valar or creators of the world we now presently stand upon.

If that's what you believe in.

So really could you blame them precious?

I mean, was it truly our dear sweet ancestors, those poor innocent creatures called the **Warlens**, fault for feeling the need to hide themselves?

Especially when we have a… lets just say a 'colorful upbringing**'**?

Sure we, **Warlens** enjoyed maiming and torturing things.

It's true, we suffer a tendency to scratch other living creatures eyes out on the odd birthday occasion.

Perhaps? One must admit in self-reflective philosophical consideration that we do as a species sometimes find it necessary to poison our neighbors, and thus we suffer the terrible bad habit of mislabeling are arsenic with our sugar.

Indeed my little toe-prick we our just like every other modern civilization, full of lawsuits, cut-throats, dungeons, death-threats, riots and public scandals!

Why we're every bit as normal as everyone else!

The dark collected humor we share at a public execution is part of a natural course of survival and in my opinion a holy tradition!….Well…perhaps not 'holy', but the point my precious is we can't help ourselves!

We just love having such ssswwweet, reprehensible wicked fun!

We were made for it, why it's encoded in our skin!

Still, despite this 'flaw' of ours, did our people, the Warlens, really have to be subjected to receiving sharp pointy arrows in their backsides whenever they went for a stroll just because dear old "Great Grand pappy" Morgoth and his beloved mysterious Mate, our divine Goddess, had created us and made us a bit more 'mischievous'?

I ask you darling mite?

How was that fair?

How was that light, how in fact was it even right?

I do speculate precious? I truly do. Why look even the long dark furs on my ears are starting to stand. Dear me, I'm getting myself worked up into quite a fit aren't I?

I shall have to rectify this post haste by bashing some goblins across the barracks about later tonight. What's that pet?

Oh yes. Where was I?

Ah. Right of course!

The History of our people the **Mighty Warlens**.

Or better known as the **Witches and Warlocks of Middle Earth**.

Ah?

What's that?

Has one confused you, luv?

Allow me to illuminate and explain things then, in the simple form of a story!

What's that?

What?

You thought I was already telling a story?

Well I was prrecious, but now I'm telling the story within the story.

You see?

No. You're shaking your head in the negative.

This is a bit-vexing luv.

I'm trying to explain** us,** '**our story'**?

That's silly.

You already know '**our story'**, because you're living it?

Nonsense!

What's that?

Now, you're even more confused?

Well by the STARS above purrrecious pet do us a favor luv, stop distracting us! And instead of arguing, do instead close your wee jaw and HUSH UP!

What are you doing now?

…

.

Oh don't start sniveling and crying!?

Sigh.

Bloody Stars.

This is why I, **Mirrazz**, shouldn't be left with **Kits**!

Tears irk my fur!

Oh do stop your blubbering and simpering.

Stop it I say.

CEASE THAT INFERNAL RACKET THISsss MOMENT!

….

...

.

BLOODY BROOMS PRECIOUS! DON'T GET HYSTERICAL!

….

Oh dear….. oh dear. Oh dear. Dear..…(sigh)…thrashing trolls is easier…then… Dear…dear..hm…(sigh.)

mm…

(Sigh.)

(Huff. Groan)…Come on precious? …Look I didn't….

…

…..

…

Right….

(grumble…stars…kill…..hiss….stars….grumble)

Stop?

Please?

Please stop.

Come. Come my little star shine..I apologize most profusely for turning you into a heaping pile of waterworks.

…..Here blow your nose.

….Oh lovely.

Tell you what snot face, if you stop crying I'll go find some Orc you can turn into a newt later!

How does that sound?!

Promising yes! Wonderfully horrid! Insanely inspiring? Right my little blubbering cupcake?!

I'll go get you one right now ….I have a wonderful spell involving a rack and a pike hook that I just can't wait to try out..….

?

...

Hmmm…interesting even more tears and now your face has turned puffy?

Sigh.

Bed knobs and Brooms...precious. Bed knobs and Brooms.

Ugh. Sigh.

There. There. (Pat. Pat.)

Uncle Mirrazz loves you. You daft pitiful little thing. Ugh.

More Snot. Eww Tsk. (grumble yuck..rreeesssrevolting).

Hmm.

Here have another handkerchief, luv.

Yes. Wipe up that distasteful booger hanging from your nose…yes that one.

Very good.

Ah? No thank you snot face. I don't need that back. I have a spare, you keep that one, yes, you can torture your Aunty Viv with it later.

You know luv, after my experiments involving gunpowder are over I think I'll be donating some time to the workings of the brain in regards to the tempering of emotional neurons and perhaps I could use you to fill some of the jars in my lab with your mucus…maybe..with the right amount of..(mutter) (Mutter)…that trigger…..oh yes..?

What?

What?

OH!

OH yes!

Sorry pet!

Very well no transfigurations or torturing of Orcs today.

Really what does my sister Murritza put in your breakfast?

Has she been feeding you enough squid?

Doesn't like to turn things into newts?…My small devious rotten apple of a niece?

Right, very well I'll check that off as one of the things to be forbidden around your presence.

Well..come on then.

Come cling onto me like some tumor as I, Mirazz, try to console you.

There. There.

Let us begin again hmm?

Now no doubt precious you have two questions the first being what is a **Warlen**?

And the second being what is a **Witch**?

Have I guessed it, luv?

Yes, well the answer pet is quite easy, you see they are one in the same!

Two different names of identification for only one species.

**A Warlen is a Witch**.

**And a Witch is a Warlen.**

Twig and Stick. Branch and Twig, what's that?

What then is a **Warlock**?

Excellent question! Darling!

Why a Warlock is simply the word we Warlens and Witches use to identify the males of our kind, nothing more and nothing less.

For example **Female Warlens** like your Aunty Millasia or Aunty Matilzen are called Witches, Sorceresses, or Enchantresses.

While **Male Warlens** such as my wonderful self, precious, are called Warlocks, Sorcerers and Enchanters.

So you see my pet even though we are of the same species, you being a female Kit will one day when you're grown be called a Witch. Whilst I, my little mayhem, when my fur turns as grey as storm clouds and my skin becomes a delightful foray of wrinkles will still be referred to as a Warlock.

Now that one has explained this much I feel as though I should return back to my previous line of …dictation.

In short I shall once again try to describe Our History.

Skimming a bit.

So. Yes. History.

History is important.

Which is why it's so awful that our own has become all but non-existent to those outside of our dear homeland, the **Hidden Kingdom** betwixt what Elves call **Utumno **and **Cuivienen**, where it lays far far to the Northeast of Man's Capital **Gondor** and a place I understand called** Esgaroth**.

We call this kingdom Wickjodinz.

Ah. **Wickjodinz.**

Rolls off the tongue nicely don't it?

A wicked little hacienda just for us, Warlens, our own beloved hideaway, our nice little oasis from the rest of Middle Earth and it's troubles.

Yes. Surrounded by enormous mountainous cliff sides our little valley kingdom called **Wickjodinz,** is extremely difficult to reach. Why?

Well, scaling the mountain side is nearly impossible, unless you have the proper "equipment on hand" and even then one must try to navigate their way through the dense and "nicely" covered foliage of our wonderful giant, Black Thorn Trees that grow everywhere throughout our tiny country.

And that's ignoring our …how shall I put it?

Wards, traps, spiders and the occasional ….**Муу****зүйлс****.**

Hush. Now.

We won't be discussing _'those', _no.

Not tonight.

.

.

.

.

Hn…yes.

So you see Luv, hidden deep we our indeed within the **Mountains of the East.**

Near that giant Lamp thing whatever it is, that the Elves called **Illuin**, very strange names those pointy pompousness have precious. I'm not even sure why they call it a Lamp? It looks nothing at all like a lamp!? No glass work at all in fact. Why it's more like a big sort of bonfire that got stuck in some giant crystallized rock?

One thing is clear it has far too much power to simply be a mere **Jodinz Stone or another ****зурхайчид****Кристал****?**

**Hm. Ah. Yes. ****зурхайчид****Кристал **is Spell Tongue for **Magi Crystal**.

And recently Mother Mabriz, (my grandmother, your great grandmother), and I have come to the conclusion that the Lamp perhaps is rather an archaic form of Magic that has been trapped within itself before the makings of **Jodinz Stones were even possible?**

To think what that 'Lamp' is?

A poor purreciouss crystallized piece of **Ea or as we call it ****Бүх****Сүнс**caged alive, most distressing pet, most…intoxicating.

Another theory Mother Mabriz and I discussed is that it perhaps is the lost soul of some hapless Valar that the other Valar decided to burn to death? Yet being a 'higher being' it had no where else to go so its essence just stays stuck in one spot and has merely convoluted, or meta-morphed into some sort of vat of energy, or perhaps it is an electrical magnification?...Or maybe it's the remains of some great comet!…Oh sorry love I'm getting off track again aren't I?

You have a question?

What exactly are **Jodinz Stones and Magi Crystals?**

Well, now. This, will only further us away from our main subject but it's dangerous to deny answers of a curious mind, nor could I refuse such a bold pupils request.

(Pat. Pat.)

However, I shall be brief, for this is a subject that could take up the rest of the night. Now let me see...

**To start with we Warlens, my dear, are magic users, or more specifically we are the great manipulators.**

We harness what others call **magic** through many means independent to each of us.

Some for instance: sing, others dance, weave, write, some need verbal sounds for casting, others do so by non-verbal movements, some use shadows, some use science, some use objects; but the **one** thing we all have in common is this: we all derive our powers from the **Essence of EA** that which is our **planets energy and the nearby heavens or what we call in the ancient Spell-Tongue of our ancestors**** амьдрал****хүчний****Бүх****Сүнсний.**

However to address your main question, **Jodinz Stones** are common and numerous, and more importantly they are **Warlen-Made.**

Yes. Indeed everywhere from the surrounding high cliffs and mountainsides of **Wickjodinz **is smothered by these glowing pebbles**,** and **in truth they could be considered any kind of rock or mineral substance found across Middle Earth's vast surface. **

What makes them special is that we **Warlens **have learned through ancient tradition how to bring forth from different kinds of materials and substances their natural **Energy of Ea into usage, by Spellwork or Spellsong.**

**And once a stone's EA energy has been brought forth, it will then glow brightly with it! **

Thus you have a **Jodinz Stone** ready for use.

What do we use them for?

Why, we use them for everything from storing energy, to keeping our food cold to illuminating our mines, and creating our healing ointments. I personally have a few that I use to keep account of the passage of time in my pendulums.

The key thing to remember about **Jodinz Stones is that they are constructed and maintained.** Therefore over time the magic or storage of energy activated in them, will lose its potency and return to whence it came.

In fact a **Jodinz stone is working &amp; still usable as long as it glows &amp; shines.**

**The minute is dulls and the glimmer fades, is the minute it returns to being nothing more then a plain hunk of rock.**

Now…my pet.

Pay Attention to this next part, for this is very important.

..

**There are only six Great Magi Crystals. **

**In Spell tongue they are called: ****Зургаан****зурхайчид****Талстууд, **though legend states that they are even older names for them. It is written that the Great Mate of Melkor herself called them **Амьдz****Оддын** **shardz**.

Whether that is true or not I suspect we will never know, but the vital thing you must remember is that they are **six and each are dangerous. **

**Unlike the Jodinz Stones **that lay gleaming all about our fair Kingdom from broom cupboards to washrooms the **Crystals are ageless.**

**We assume they were **formed by** Melkor and his Mate in part themselves and fused with the deepest sources of EA. **Entwined deliberately by the core of this planet's natural energetic existence and those of the planets that lay closest to our own in the nearby heavens.

By that precious,** I mean that the Magi Crystals were formed not only from our planet's energetic pulse, but were mixed from the pieces of fallen stars and the meteors of other alien Solar Systems, other world's EA's...other worlds…** **амьд****ц****ө****м**.

**Or in our more modern tongue: Living Cores.**

**Thus Magi Crystals have a strange affect on many of the species of Middle Earth. **

**In truth the Magi Crystals can only be channeled by the highest trained Warlens, for only does our species possess the evolved ability or necessary third channels of the mind that allow safe communications with the Crystals and thus the gift of control over them. **

**And it is dangerous my pet, worse there are very, very few Witches or Warlocks of the distinctly necessary power circumference, that are able to overcome a Magi Crystals natural defense mechanisms that include at the minimum: mind altering persuasions. **

**In fact our dear Uncle Vulez became blind by using one and that was lucky.**

**Many have died pet…or worse…..yesssss.**

**(Sigh.) **

**Still? **

**Much delicious power is in the Magi Crystals, but too much for simple uses, which is why Mother Mabriz keeps them locked away and only with her permission does anyone see them. **

Still **Magi Crystals or **the **Амьдz****Оддын****shardz,** are beautiful but they shine so brightly, that we must keep them covered. Yet all in all precious it is best that we return now I feel to our prior topic of conversation.

Such as our home, **Wickjodinz, **and more importantly** us**.

Now the **Hidden Kingdom of Wickjodinz** where we **Warlens** live can only be accessed four ways which are: either by flight, the Northern port we keep guarded, the secret (that everyone really knows) tunnel entrance, and of course my personal favorite …teleportation!

Those are the only ways in precious and those are the only ways out, and that my dear is only if you are on good terms with us, locals.

There are I'm sure other passages spread about our small kingdom, but it's never a good idea to come into someone's home uninvited. You might catch them when they're indisposed or worse one might come across dear Granny Muhbaba, your beloved great great grandmother.

Which is a fate, snot face, I wouldn't wish, on anyone less then my greatest mortal enemy!

Now…

We Warlens….

Hmmmm…

No… wait…

You know my lovely pipsqueak, it dawns on me that perhaps I should explain what exactly our kind actually **looks** like for the most part, as a whole species I mean, in comparison to other beings?

Our **distinctions** if you will.

**The Warlen**, my little fiend, is a creature that has two legs, two hands, two feet, one head, two eyes, two ears, a set of lips and the basic common anatomy of most peoples of Middle Earth in the terms of the central body.

Our **coloring** consists of a splendid vast hue of different shades and tones, with as much variety as the leaves of the autumn trees.

For example your Aunty Millasia and I are rather pale skinned overall in color but behind both our long dark tipped ears, and down both our backs you would see a nice array of black spots, to match the coloring of our families famous shade of ebony hair.

And indeed you, yourself my little coffee cream colored duck, have a nice array of dark brown freckled spots right above that little noise, while your brother I understand it, has on the backs of his legs his father's reddish brown stripes!

We are my pet a melting pot of browns, blacks, peaches, grays, reds, and creams of flesh color and in some cases, I have even seen those of us with green spots and orange stripes!

Why the only color our species is missing my sweet pest is perhaps purple and that isn't even considering our eye colors or clothes! In which case the baker Unza has a remarkable pair of violet hued irises!

You know, it's funny but in some ways I find us of the Royal Lineage to be rather plain really compared to the peasantry.

Why we barely have any stripes in the family at all as far as the first cousins go?

Moving on bug bite, you may find it surprising to know then that it is easiest for us to blend in with those creatures belonging to the race of Humans. Although this is debatable, for in truth no one has had any contact with an Elf in well?

Forever.

And there have been those, like my younger brother Marius, who have tried going outside the box. As was explained to me earlier today via '**Flash Note'**; apparently dear little brother has chosen to disguise himself as a dwarf?

A dwarf? Huff.

Sigh.

It's not the first time such a thing has happened although if recollection serves, the last Warlock to disguise himself as a dwarf, accidently led that gluttonous wrym '**Smaug**' back to the very place he was residing in and caused quite the calamity?

Some place called **Dale**?

**Granny MuhBaba** found it hilarious…poor sod.

I believe the poor soul almost exposed our whole society in some sort of robbery attempt gone wrong?

Some ridiculous notion about a **Seventh Magi Crystal** being found …Hm.?

What?

You want to know what happened to him?

Well let me think, Oh! Oh yes! How could I forget!?

**Mother Mabriz** had him … (chuckle, cackle) stuffed and fluffed, for his punishment, in short my dear she turned old Ruzpert into a duck!

Why! YES! OF COURSE OLD ORANGE HAIRED RUZPERT! That was his name!

THAT MARVELOUS IDIOT! HAHAHAHahaha!

OH …SODDING BROOMS!

Millanna's would be intended! GREAT STARS!

TWO LOVE STRUCK QUACKS!

HAHA!

Hahahah!

Hm?

(Chuckle.)

What's that precious?

What about our height?

Why in general precious our race, tend to be rather various in terms of height and size.

Why good old Uncle Varinz reached an extraordinary height of 8-9feet! While Granny MuhBaba as I understand, has always been rather short to match her temper, don't let her know I said that, my clever little rapscallion.

Now skipping right along, when we are not shape shifting and yes precious we are **shape shifters**.

In fact we are the esteemed exemplary for **Shape Shifters**.

For we use our magic to hide our more eccentric features that, (yes, yes snot nose orange stripes) we have, or like our kinds very large ears.

The biggest ears and the best of ears!

Why precious our ears our akin to the felines of the world, not just in movement dexterity or appearance! Oh no, with are ears we can hear the tiniest grain of sand fall inside the hourglass to the sound of war drums beating across the mountains from leagues away.

Come to think of it we are very much like two footed upright walking Snow Leopards or think of us as humanoid cats, (which is the same thing I told my sister at your age).

For you see like our friends the mountain wildcats we, Warlens, also possess in place of more human fingernails and toenails various types of claws, which we can extend or retract to our advantage, as we see fit.

I particularly like showing mine randomly whenever I have to deal orders out to the guards, it keeps them guessing, pet! (Wink)

Their horrified faces could amuse me for hours.

Why just the other day I made a most disagreeable messenger from that lousy loudmouthed Orcish oaf named** Azog**, stumble back in fright so badly when I unsheathed my one fore claw that he fell off the Cliffside and impaled himself amongst the Thorn Trees!

Ha Ha HA!

Oh the expression on his fellow compatriots faces, luv, was to die for!

So much so, that I simply couldn't resist unsheathing the rest!

If only your mother would let me take you out on patrol. They looked like fish with their jaws hanging so low opening and closing and opening again!

I began to suspect they were trying to catch flies.

Well after their leader had gone and lost his footing I thought best offer my condolences and some drinks. After all just because one inadvertently maims or kills a guest doesn't mean one should lack the dignity of a good host!

Manners precious.

They make a society. That aside it doesn't pay to be impolite.

No indeed precious.

More flies with honey.

Palms in place of claws my dancing little devil delight.

So, there I went placing my unsheathed clawed hand upon one orc's shoulder, giving my best smile and in retrospect I imagine the fangs were a bit much for them, but oh how they ran!

Like mice precious! Like mice!

Ha. Ha. Whahaha..Ha. Ha!

I never dreamed a couple of Orcs could scatter quite so fast!

One would have thought a Balrog had been chasing them!

Why the rest of the patrol began making bets!

I won nine salmon and seven tuna's!

Ha!

What?

Why my sweet brat bat, are you scrunching your face up like that?

….

Your mother say's betting is a dirty habit.

She say's I'm a sucker for…WHAT!

….

.

Honestly. My ssssissster.

(( Grumble, too mmmmany bbballoons…grumble I CAN TOO RESIST A BAD DEAL!… growl. Helium has rotted her brain. snarl. Hisss….Now I'mmmm ssstutter! Arg! Growl. Murritzza!ssss)

There'sss only one thing for it!

Ignore your mother precious.

She only sayss that because she never wwwins, and she'ss become bitter over the fact!

I'll teach you how to gamble properly.

So you always win good Fish and then ssshhhe'll have nothing to complain over.

Now…. (cough. Sister..squid. Ahem.)

Oh yes. Excuse me pet….where was I?

Ah. Yes. As for Warlen bodies they are naturally lithe and slim, although some over indulge and they become a bit more rotund. (Which is the reason why one should stop after four helpings of a meal.) Our forms are also good for jumping, we tend to land on our feet and despite our lack of wings we are very aerodynamic which is why we fly by our magic.

Did you see precious I just made a rhyme?

Our diet consists primarily of fish, and anything else we deem appropriate.

It does one no good to be picky precious.

No?

Supposing you end up in a desert one day, just you and a goblin, survival of the fittest my luv, it's nature's great game.

So play wisely.

..

!

..

Now don't give me that look precious.

I find it rather offensive.

Honestly now I can't threaten goblins!

What IS my sssister, Murritzza, feeding you?

That is a question I must quickly add on top of my other priorities.

What?

Oh yes…very right pet, very right, I'm loosing focus.

Where was I?

Ah. Yes. The body of the Warlen, so in our natural states we look over all rather like humans and elves, but unlike them we have the ears of a feline that also move as a felines, by this I mean that our ears rotate and allow us 'directional hearing'.

We have claws in place of nails all though it's easy for us to retract our claws far enough in to make them appear as just finally sharpened long human fingernails. Our hands despite our claws look overall like mans, though we have very soft palms as Kits.

**(Kit is the word that we, Warlens, call our young until they reach majority. Majority is reached when a Warlen turns their first three hundred years. While Adulthood is not fully recognized until a Warlen does two things: 1. Masters a talent apprenticeship and 2. Is of the age of six hundred or so years roughly. Adulthood can vary and (some pet never grow up..).**

Now our species arms are like any other peoples of Middle Earth but I realize now that our** Feet **may take some more considerable explaining.

You see love just like our hands, our feet have claws too, also let me ask you precious have you ever seen a dog stand on two legs?

Looks a bit silly doesn't it?

Yes.

Well you see we Warlens, in our natural state, have an extra **double joint** somewhere between the normal heel you might find on a human's foot and in the middle region of what would be around the human's calf a little under the knee.

This **double joint** is what allows us to jump so well, and I often wonder precious if Uncle Marvolo isn't onto something when he says we our just the evolution of some ancient cat species that the Dark God crossed with some poor Elf he had captured?

It's seems logical, and the peculiarity of our legs and feet also explain why I believe many of us including my fellow Warlocks have a particular attraction to high heeled boots or various versions of the shoes we call **Geta**.

Although many of us enjoy being barefoot, I do think propriety demands we put something near or over are toes.

Speaking of…**our most distinct feature** when it comes to our feet is that Warlens my sweet mayhem, have only **six toes.**

**Three nicely long clawed toes to one foot each.**

Yes. Unlike every other species we Warlens have only just six.

**Six **that we enjoy keeping hidden under a variety of footwear!

Most of us anyway.

Stars above know I wish dear sweet Granny would cover her hideous feet.

It would be a kindness precious.

It really would.

Even if for the sake of just covering the stench.

Ah…Squids and Pickles.

One can dream. My pet. One can dream.

Anyway moving on, thanks to being double jointed in our legs we can either walk like some imaginary creature such as the satyr or we can simply stroll around flat footed like a dwarf.

It's really up to the individual.

Which then brings me up to our eyes, my mischievous little soufflé.

The **Warlens**, other most distinct feature, is our elliptical pupils in our eyes.

With them we can see the blade of dew upon the morning grass from yards away, we can see the aura of another creature as clear as day and all the small signs of** Ea**.

And at night, oh love.

Our eyes were made for seeing in the darkness of the world, when all other things cannot.

Which is why are city doesn't have more then just a few Jodinz lit lanterns per square.

For we can look out into the vast sea of the night sky and where other creatures glimpse only a few glowing stars of light, we see the cosmos wrapped in the great blankets of nights shadows. Those constellations, those beautiful bejeweled nebulas, those evanescent aura's of intertwining astral planes hidden in Nights sweet shade were made just for us and in the dark caves of our world we find the crystals of our planets core that still sing and glow in echo to the stars above.

…

.

.

In essence my darling we are the great hunters, the great opposites of all those who fear the Dark.

For we embrace it.

We are a part of it, like the fangs in our mouths, that I tell you can in truth be used and have been to suck the blood from other creatures in time gone by.

Yes.

We have the power to be as silent as the grave, precious, while we crush any prey in our path and it is us alone who can see magic with our glowing naked eyes.

That is how the first of us found it.

Hidden, lost, the lingering remains of **great Ea, great Iluvatar, the Heart of All translated to ****Б****ү****х****З****ү****рхний****, ****in the ancient Warlen spell tongue.**

Tucked away in the Darkness….

It was our ancestors, the First Warlens, who found the shattered bits of the divine with our claws.

And it was the First of our Kind, she who is Nameless.

Melkor's Mate, our dear mother Goddess, who gave us our gift of empathy to counteract and balance out are father Gods gift of ecstatic malice.

And with the remains of Ea upon contact we were changed, and became much much more then just another one of the Dark Valar's creatures.

We became something new.

We became something separate and thinking, compared to the rest of Lord Melkor's dark legions.

If that is what you believe.

….

..

According to the old scrolls we did join in his fray, my pet, here or there, for we our predators too, and our records repeat this, but never did we expose ourselves.

And little by little precious, we slowly crept away from the pointless battles.

For our kind became too much of both really?

Too little darkness and too much light.

Too much shadow and and too little sun.

..

.

We Warlens, made and changed by Ea became more like Ea?

Great Ea. The Great Illuvatar, the Heart of All, **Б****ү****х****З****ү****рхний** or as I prefer **Бүх****Сүнс** that which we Warlens, now worship above all others entities, even above Melkor and his Mate.

For the Great Ea sang the first spell song and made the world.

Then of course the Valar and the Maiar, came to be and they were the ones who began to sing the divisions into this world called Middle Earth. But as the story goes precious, great Melkor, his horrible maliciousness did not agree to the divisions that were being made, and he grew angry.

Thus the first war was waged.

I could fill a library with all the comings and goings of those early battles, and an even larger one on the following wars when those pointy-eared demons came to be brought into existence.

But….I shall skip all that in general and move backwards to when we, Warlens, were made which was a good thousand years later from Ea's first Creation Spell, no doubt.

Granted this is still of some speculation...

..

Still you see luv, after countless upon countless of decades of waging war, the Dark Valar named Melkor or Morgath as some know him, grew at long last weary and disheartened.

He could no longer sing a single spell of making.

He could no longer sing a note of power.

His soul, for lack of a better term was saddened and full of despair.

And in his despair my precious he would look over to the shining wonders of the other Valar such as Yavanna's soft shining trees and he would secretly weep of envy. He would gaze at those first creations, those beautiful **Quendi Elves** sung into the world dancing in the other Valars early dawn, and his self-hatred grew.

So naturally to extinguish his pain, Melkor tried to slaughter and ruin the other Valar's works, but alas or thankfully, our great father maker failed, and the other Valars creations multiplied.

It was then they say after he had created the Vampire and the Werewolf, that the Dark One had fallen into the deepest pit of damnation where he at last met Her.

**Тэр****хэн****з****үү****длэн****, **we call Her in the ancient tongue, it means "She who dreams."

For we do not know where she came from precious.

Nor do we know her name.

We have only a myth that I will tell you which is what **Granny MuhBaba** told me when I was a Kit, and it is this speculative truth that:

As the war of the Valar went on and on, the remaining spirit of Ea, grew heartbroken at its Children's constant fighting. The death of so many was staining it's perfect song that is the world, and in it's all-knowing wisdom it saw no end to the squabbling but only the ruin of all it's precious work everlasting.

Breaking the song of its divine creation before it could even reach its summit.

So Ea decided intervention was necessary. And in finding the Valar led by Manwe too proud to change, it went instead to Melkor and wove another being for It's purposes.

Thus **She **was formed with the lingering of Ea's hope and a piece of the void of space itself.

Our mother Goddess.

The separate Valar.

The last Ainur.

**Melkor's Mate.**

**Тэр****хэн****з****үү****длэн.**

They say after she explored **Arda** on her own for a time as no more then a gentle wind, that she crept upon the unsuspecting Melkor hidden in his own darkness. So quiet was she that for a long time he thought her nothing but his shadow.

Then one day with much mirth and great surprise, just when Melkor decided to make the Dragon Breed, her voice like the sudden sting of a scorpion sung out of the darkness at a random moment for the first time filling Melkor's lair, full of comments on his latest work telling him he needed to give the wyrms wings.

In shock, the Dark Valar, Melkor instead sang the note for fire and that is why the Dragons have both wings and flame.

It is also speculated that this is why Dragons are such odd creatures for when Melkor was interrupted in his making of them by our Goddess, we wonder precious if he truly was able to properly finish the job?

One doubts it.

…

.

At first precious it is believed, Melkor did not approve of **Тэр****хэн****з****үү****длэн** and he tried to hide from Her as he did with all the other Valar. Happily for us, he was never able to do so.

No matter where he went, our Goddess was able to find him, for she could see in the darkness as clear as day, and thus Melkor could never hide from the last sung born Valar.

And oh for a divine entity she was beautiful.

Her hair they say was of the softness of shadows, and her being glowed like the dying embers of an eclipse at twighlight, but as she was beautiful she was also as cold and ever churning as the bottom of the icy sea.

She did not fear Melkor rather he entertained her with his scheming and plotting.

And so one day my pet, after loosing yet again to the other Valar, the great Melkor went to her out of long overdue weariness and he sung to another for the first time of his woes.

Which was when at long last Ea, great Illuvatar's plan was set into it's glorious motion, for our Mother Goddess after hearing our Father's lament, threw away her immortality for a form of flesh as the first **Warlen Witch** and she suggested with her mortal transformation an alternative idea for Melkor's Darkness and a balm to his suffering.

And thus is it written in our scrolls and inscribed that she sung and I quote,

"Waste not thy songs on plotting schemes or vicious things, but stay still. Come form new ballads by way of me, show the others what vast darkness merged with gentleness can weave. Make them the ones filled with desperate vain envy.

For nights dreams and songs are thy most precious keys."

And that dear niece is how some believe our kind originated.

**The Children of Melkor and his Mate.**

**The Warlens.**

Our Hidden History.

Our Kind.

_*****************************************************(Page Break)**_

"Is that really true Uncle?" asked a small little warlen girl raising her brown freckled nose in the air. Her coffee colored skin and golden glowing elliptical eyes open wide with full helpings of speculation at this bizarre bedtime tale her Uncle had chosen.

Given a choice she would have preferred the other story from last night. Where the nasty goblin prince was turned into a rooster only to be caught in a cage by a Warlen princess and then somehow ended up smashed under a clock, but her Uncle had said he couldn't stand repetition.

Therefore Princess Arisza, first-born daughter of the Eldest Princess Murritza of the _Royal Family of Wickjodinz_, sat with all the amazement a youthful kit could possess, when faced with an impromptu history lesson.

Cross-legged in the folds of her frilly pink nightgown, upon her bed she stared at the seven-eight foot tall looming figure standing across her room in the small candle lit bedchamber, and had to admit that although the story was lacking in it's classic '_Once upon a time', _flavor that her Uncle had still somehow managed to make it just as interesting?

He was good at that, her favorite Uncle. She was sure he could make anything interesting if he wanted. It was why he was her favorite. Most adult witches and warlocks grew boring to the young kit, but not _Mirrazz._

_Uncle Mirrazz_ was special.

Even though she was only turning forty this year, (the equivalent of eight in human years), which was still extremely very young for a Warlen. Princess Arisza was already coming in tune with her blooming powers of extreme observation and had seen her beloved Uncle, with her cousins and little brothers, regale a speech to the public about the most mundane of subjects and yet still manage to make the entire citizenry of the city cheer aloud for him.

He was her idol with only the ever elusive, _Aunty Millasia_ to follow.

Besides of course her parents and _Mother Mabriz, _but in truth _Mother Mabriz_ frightened Arisza a little. It was her way of staring. Grandmother _Mabriz_ just had an aura of _sharpness_ and _silence_ that felt too _cold_ in comparison to her other relatives, maybe it was because she was _Queen? _

Princess Arisza didn't know.

Her spotted arms wound tightly around the green stuffed toy _Aunty Millasia _had made for her sixth birthday as she thought on her Uncle's narrative. The toy was in the shape of a goblin that had one brown button eye missing, a real tooth sewn in the smile, and a big obnoxious red nose, but her favorite part if Arisza had to confess were the floppy green leaf shaped flaps for ears.

It was the little princess's favorite thing in the entire world and she would go nowhere without it for as long as possible, no matter how stained or full of stitches it got.

She _loved _it and that was final.

"Why of course it's true! My _precious_ little brat bite!" snarked Uncle Mirrazz as he waved his large long fingered hands and arms about in overactive enthusiasm. His voice purring with a loquacious tenor of natural guttural, smarmy, sleaziness that conquered the impossible and managed to convey nothing short of affluential elegance.

He was as her mother had always said, a natural performer with his meticulous movements and compendium of various talents. And if what Princess Arisza, had overheard her _Uncle Maurius_ say offhand in conversation to her _Aunty Millana_ was true, _then outside the Royal Family, he was also the most feared Warlock of all Middle Earth._

_Even the foul 'Witch King of Angmar' would dare not cross Uncle Mirrazz…._

"The shear audacity of even questioning my words! Why you conniving skeptical little boggart!" sneered her Uncle with a glinting tone of playfulness.

"Oh…dear…dearie me… I can see what's happening here," he purred in a growl as he raised one long dark whiskery haired eyebrow and raised a gold tipped black-clawed hand to his chin in thought. His eyes narrowing in the low bedroom candlelight where amongst the shadows the two golden orbs gleamed in what another creature like a dwarf, would have assumed was malicious intent. When in truth it was merely nothing but delighted teasing.

"Your abandoning your childhood! To become yet another wench in my life!" he declared violently.

Arisza then watched as her Uncle Mirrazz changed pitch in his voice and pretended to let out a mournful wail of anguish while he flung his long arms over his head, "Oh the calamity! The foul twist of fates great fangs! Brooms! That I should lose my beloved little kit of a niece to that oh so detestable thing called… Adulthood! Who will help me torture the frogs in my laboratory? Who will I call upon now to share my wonderful pranks with? Alas….Alas! FOUL CONSTERNATION! TIS THE TOLL OF DOOM!"

Arisza giggled happily as her Uncle in his excitement began to jump around the room with surprising grace. With his dark green-black cape swirling behind him, he squawked and huffed indignantly at her blatant display of mirth at his expense, "WHAT! WHAT! Find this funny do you pest? DO YOU! WEeeeELLLL I NEVER!? See if your getting any more toys from me this year you little minx! Growing up and leaving your beloved Uncle and _giggling BESIDES! Giggling! _Humph."

"Hee…hee, but Uncle, Uncle Razz?" tried Arisza between giggles only to be interrupted.

"BUT UNCLE! BUT UNCLE!' Why? Hark? I do believe that is the sound of my niece? NAY! IT IS SOME FOUL DARK Goblin mischief magic! OH THE CALAMITY! OH! She's grown up and DISAPPEARED! OHhh WHERE COULD SHE BE!? ARISZA! Oh! ARISssszzZA!" at this Uncle Mirazz cocked his two large bat like ears down against his head and much to Arisza's delight began pretending that he couldn't see her. Giving all of her laced up dollies viscious snarling scowls as if they had an answer for him, as to her 'supposed whereabouts!'

Suddenly his golden luminescent eyes went wide and his slitted pupils narrowed to the point of disappearing as he grabbed her dollies and threw them in the air! Lace and frills went everywhere as her Uncle Mirrazz took a serious pose of many a scheming madman, " I HAVE IT!" he shouted, "No doubt that repugnant bedtime closet monster has snatched her! Yesss…"

Uncle Mirrazz sneered, his long narrow clawed fingers then wiggled a bit in a gesture reminiscent of a spider's movements as he seemed to appear contemplating something when a most horrible smirk etched itself across his face, then with the grace of an acrobat he sprung across her room with the quickness of a Southern Rhun Crocodile towards her bedroom wardrobe!

"There is but one course of action! Avast ye foul closet monster! Unleash my niece or I shall rip apart your flesh and suck out your eyeballs! Yes. Yess. Yes Indeed! HAVE AT THEE!"

Princess Arisza couldn't stop the laugh that sprung from her as she watched her Uncle 'battle' the contents of her wardrobe, and chuckled as one pink petticoat and purple scarf seemingly "sprang to life" and tangled their way upon the fierce Warlock!

"WHY YOU FOUL SILKEN THING! UNHAND ME AT ONCE!" Shouted the Warlock as Arisza watched more and more of her cloths being tossed out of the closet and into the air! Some items began floating around the room in wide flying arcs, as they seem to spring into "life" and her golden eyes widened in delight as she spotted a pair of her knickers ridiculously trying it appeared to have tea with her bonnet over in one corner of her room. While on the other side of the room she watched as her stuffed animals all of sudden began to dance and go about the room in a sort of animal stuffy parade?

THUD!

"GADZOOKS! I'VE BEEN SHUT IN! THE BOUNDER!" cried Uncle Mirrazz from her now firmly closed wardrobe.

Princess Arisza shot off her bed in alarm, "Don't worry! Uncle Razz! DON'T WORRY I'LL SAVE YOU!" The Princess stampeded her way through the parade of stuffed toys and kicked one disgruntled looking teddy out of her way as she rushed forward!

Her tiny-clawed hands reached the handle just as her Uncle's muffled voice suddenly asked, "I say? Ugh! Arisza what the devil is this?...Smells like…. Stars what in Melkor's name? Oh Yuck! sssrrrREVOLTING! Some sort of stash of….'jelly treats?' What is this sticky concoction you've been hiding amongst your socks that I've so "luckily" stepped in?!"

The little Princess froze in horror at having been caught! She'd been snitching jelly bun treats from Aunty Murritza's Bakery for the past week but had unfortunately forgotten where it was she had hidden them until now.

She felt her cheeks turn an embarrassed red.

"Arisza?" asked her Uncle in a slightly irritable tone of curious query.

"IT'S A PROJECT!" she shouted spontaneously! Yes what a brilliant idea!

"A What?"

"A PROJECT!" she shouted again in desperate panic! All she had wanted was her own hidden supply of treats!

"A project? Hmm…"began Uncle Mirrazz from within the still shut closet in skeptism, "More like a confectionary catassstrophe," he snorted.

Arisza felt like a complete idiot, 'How in Stars will I get out of this?' were her thoughts as panic gave way to embarrassment. With no solution coming to her rescue Arisza decided there was only one thing for it. To run.

So run she did, all the way to her rooms door when a pair of strong male arms wrapped around her and next thing she knew she found herself tucked under her Uncle Razz's elbow as he merrily cheered over the discovery of his favorite niece's new interest!

"Why my delightful little sugar glutton!" he started, "Why keep this from me?"

"Because Uncle Razz! I can't let Aunty Viv know!" said Arisza near her Uncle's armpit.

Mirrazz snorted, "Asssss if, I would ever expossse such a wonderfully fine secret such as this! What sort of a Warlock do you take me for snot face?"

Arisza was silent for a few seconds before she decided just to say it, "You're a ..blabbermouth."

Her Uncles large black furred tipped ears twitched back a bit before facing forward again, "I beg your pardon wart."

Arisza contemplated how much her Uncle loved her.

"Did you say I was a..a 'blubber' cause if so I'll have you know that I am in pristine athletic condition" proclaimed her Uncle as he swung her around the room in his arms as if to prove his point before he continued, "and I have no ….idea…how that has anything to do with your snitching treats habit? Unless you think that I shall now that I know be snitching them from you in turn?"

At hearing that Arisza frowned for she had expected as much and in a second this fear was confirmed when her Uncle went on to say, "which by the way I most certainly shall! Now that I am partial to this new partnership in thievery and blossoming espionage! Ah. Yes. Your next task will be to snitch one of those nice doughy things with the honey inside them and the fish paste. Mochie? I believe Aunt Viv calls them?"

"Uncle RAZZZ!?" shouted Arisza exasperated.

"Yes?"

"You're a Blabberer!" proclaimed Arisza.

….

…

"I AM NOT!" sputtered Uncle Mirrazz indignantly!

"Yes you are."

"NO I'M NOT!"

"YES YOU ARE."

"NO."

"YES."

"NO."

"YES."

"NO."

"YES! YES! YES!"

"NO. NO. ."

"…No?"

"YES!"

"No."

"YES! ABSOLUTELY YES SNOTFACE!"

"Okay Uncle Mirrazz you're a blabberer," accepted Arisza cheerfully as her Uncles protest sputtered out and his mouth hung open in a dumbfounded pose.

Then with a sort of wicked glint in his golden eye, her Uncle let out a long drawn out dramatic sigh before he stated in an overly deadpanned voice, "Very well…my dear little Witch! It seems you've won this round but if a snack doesn't appear in my quarters sometime soon be warned….I shall have my rrrREVENGE!" and on that last word the young kit was sent hurtling for a few seconds in the air.

With his magical power sparking in the candlelight, Mirrazz's extremely fine sharpened claws glinted gold and his crafty golden eyes shone out from his pale face like two pits of molten lava contrasting with his dark midnight locks as they swirled in long curls atop his head. As Arisza floated through the air she watched as her Uncle tossed his tall lanky body about the room in dramatic poses of unnamed horror at the very idea that his beloved niece had outwitted him!

His long cape swirling along behind him causing strange shadows to play across her bedchambers walls, then suddenly he flopped onto her bed with a hissing gusto!

Leaving Arisza to stare from the ceiling down at him before unseen hands gently caught her midair and pulled her softly back onto her now crowded bed, as her silly Uncle lied there, belly down dejectedly.

'Was it really true?' Arisza wondered. How could her Uncle be the most feared of all Warlocks? He was lying like a dead fish on her bed and he had juggled lit candles and played dolls with her all afternoon but apparently he was supposed to be the most dangerous Warlock in all Middle Earth?

For some reason Arisza just couldn't see it.

"I can feel your little beady eyes staring at the back of my head with extreme perplexity?" Uncle Mirrazz then said with a gentle growl, as he propped himself up to face his favorite niece with a fanged smirk, "What is it that has you so tongue-tied bug bite? What possible thoughts are traveling in that empty space betwixt thy ears? Hmmm?"

"Well…Uncle….I was….well…." began Arisza slowly as she sank down to sit.

"Two wells? Oh now this is going to be good. I better sit up for this," interrupted her Uncle as he moved his lithe body into a cross-legged sitting position, pointy boots an all, directly twelve inches across from his niece. Whereupon he proceeded to fold his hands, in a gesture most associated with mad scientists or villains in another world. He then lifted both long dark eyebrows up in an expression of neutral open calm. While his extremely large fur tipped pointy ears folded forward in an erect position of attention.

"There now, I'm ready pet, ask to your hearts content all the inappropriate questions you can throw. I'm quite …_prepared _to fling them back at you! By morning I will no doubt know the name of your most hated enemy and forbidden lover! With all the dirty details in between, (here his voice had dropped two octaves) then we shall be true blue bosom companions for all of …._timmmee._" he finished in a toothy growl.

Arisza couldn't help chuckling as she began to form her question when she was interrupted by a large shout coming from beyond her bedchamber's door.

"MIRRAZZ! MIRRAZZ! Where in sundry is he? BROOMS AND TOADS! MIRRAZZ! DAMNIT! MELKOR'S &amp;^*&amp;! COME HERE THIS INSTANT!" howled the voice of the annoyed _Princess Millanna, second daughter, of the Royal Family of Warlens,_ as she marched her way down the dark castles hallway.

"MIRRAZZ!" she screeched like some demented banshee.

At the sound of Aunt Millanna's voice Uncle Mirrazz's back stiffened and his gold eyes flashed brilliantly and in split seconds Arisza found her whole room to have been swept, scrubbed, and cleaned!

Not a doll out of place, startled by the speed of his magic, Princess Arisza looked at her Uncle whose eyelids were drooping and for just a moment she heard an irritated inaudible groan escape his lips.

"MIRRAZZ! MIRRAZZ!" screeched Aunty Millanna again, her voice hurting Arisza's eardrums a tiny bit.

"MIRRAZZ! STARS! WHERE ARE YOU!" came another screech.

Uncle Mirrazz sighed, and Arisza watched in fascination as her Uncle stood up, transforming right before her from the silly goofball that had entertained her for the last four hours or so into the powerful and if she were to be honest downright scary individual she sometimes saw going into the **Council Chambers**.

"MIRRAZZ!" shrilled Aunty Millanna as she deliberately barged into Arisza's bedchamber sending the oliphaunt ivory carved doors slamming against the walls, "THERE YOU ARE! DON'T TELL ME YOU'VE BEEN HERE THE WHOLE CONFOUNDED TIME!? YOU &amp; &amp;^^%...!"

Before Princess Millanna could utter another word, Arisza watched as Uncle Mirrazz lifted one golden-clawed finger and flicked it towards her Aunt, whose ruby red lips upon his actions, magically sealed together shut tight. Putting an abrupt end to whatever else Princess Millanna had been 'saying'.

Then in one graceful gesture her Uncle moved his arms in a welcoming manner as he all but stalked towards Aunty Millanna,"My…dearszz. Sssweet ssssister," he hissed, "How nice of you to join us and with such language in front of the young kit won't ssister, Murritza, be 'thrilled' at what you've taught her daughter. Tell me Millanna what's it like to have such a limited vocabulary?"

At this Arisza watched as Aunty Millanna's pale face turned an interesting shade of red while a vein in her pale forehead throbbed, as it appeared she was fighting hard to break the silencing spell Uncle Mirrazz had cast upon her. The older witch was practically burning a hole in her Uncle's face as she stared straight at him with a frightfully hateful look accentuated by the heavy black eye-shadow she wore around her golden-orange eyes.

It was no secret in the **Hidden Kingdom of Wickjodinz**, that there was a mutual amount of discord, to put it mildly, between certain members of the royal family, none so tangible or so easily formidable as the one between _Princess Millanna, and his esteemed majesty High Lord &amp; Crown Prince Mirrazz. _ What had caused the rift between the two was to this day a mystery that only the party members involved shared but for the last hundred of years or so, what had initially been a slight dislike or grievance had evolved into two assassination attempts courtesy of Princess Millanna and one crushing blow after another from his Majesty Mirrazz.

Until this moment Arisza had not cared to understand too much of the rumors or 'grown-up' business that had been discussed regarding this thriving hatred between her two older relatives, in truth she had been too young until now to really understand the subject at all. It had only been something that her mother _Princess Murritza, the first born daughter of the Royal Family,_ had discussed with _Aunt Vivienne_,_ The Lady of Fans second sister to Queen Mabriz._ However, seeing her Uncle and Aunt face off against each other as they were in her bedchamber, put an end to any doubts about whether or not they actually liked each other.

Indeed, it seemed as if Aunty Millanna as far as Arisza could tell was going to explode any moment if Uncle Mirrazz didn't remove his spell soon?

Yet it seemed her Uncle was too busy enjoying throwing taunts at Aunty Millanna to notice her rapidly descending attitude?

"Come, come sssister dear? It's rude to stay silent when someone asks you a question. Why? People will think you were raised in a Cuckoo Pen, such a poor reflection of the family would be _most_ unssssuitable. Oh wait?! Why? Pardon me sssister I forgot you CAN'T talk can you?" taunted Uncle Mirrazz as he smugly waved his clawed hands inches from Aunt Millanna's face, one gleaming claw gently moving a strand of dark black hair that had fallen loose from the beaded _Kanzashi_ hair ornaments she wore. His grin turning out right malicious as he invaded Aunt Millanna's personal space, suddenly the room that had moments before been filled with a safe and cozy candlelit darkness now felt cold and the shadows that had been simply playful now filled the room with a deep menace.

Princess Arisza couldn't help the small squeak of alarm at the change in atmosphere, that did not go unnoticed by her Uncle, as she felt an invisible hand gently caress her head, but although she felt her Uncle Mirrazz's magic sooth her he did not so much as move or glance in her direction. With his back to Arisza, his golden glowing eyes stayed fixed upon Aunt Millanna, who glared back evenly but lowered her shoulders a bit to show her …temporary acquiescence.

Her small submission though, had not fully satisfied her Uncle for before he released her from his spell and lifted the looming darkness he had created in the room he put his face right in Aunt Millanna's and softly hissed, "Now. I know manners are not your strongest suit '_sssister dear'_, but if ever again you barge so haphazardly and brazenly into my _beloved_ nieces room with such vile filth spewing from that rrrevolting mouth of yours again, you will find your self missing a tongue by morning! Do we understand one another? Nod your head. If so?"

Aunt Millanna's eyes flickered briefly towards Arisza before she did slowly comply with one elegant nod of her ornament covered, head, however the energy in the air remained tinged with animosity.

Seeming indifferent or unaffected by the air, Uncle Mirrazz merely chuffed a little, before releasing his spell, as soon as she was free to speak again Arisza watched as Aunt Millanna wasted no time.

"I am here brother 'dear'," she softly spat, "as the one to come fetch you to the **Council Chambers. The Council Meeting **began three hours ago and Mother Mabriz finds your tardiness distasteful. Personally, I thought it rather nice for a change to have you absent but it seems I am in the minority."

"Really? What a surprise," responded Uncle Mirrazz sarcastically.

"Hn. Granny… insisted I get you. So if your done 'playing' lets go.." and with that Aunt Millanna twirled around in her flowing layers of her beaded red _Ruqun, _like an angered eel. Her hair ornaments swaying behind her violently like the flaring of a dragon's spikes.

Uncle Mirrazz let out another irritable sigh before he turned to face Arisza who found herself sitting in a curious stupor. He approached her bed and with only a gesture or two was able to silently communicate to her that it was now time for her to sleep, but Arisza found her mind to be buzzing.

She knew that night had fallen upon the _**Hidden Kingdom**_**, **and that it was indeed her bedtime, but her mind was too full of questions, namely about the **Council Meeting**_**.**_

Only the adults were allowed to attend the **Council Meetings** in the** Council Chambers, **but like many royal kits before her, Princess Arisza found this completely unfair. Curiosity, was a terrible thing for her kind, and she had heard so many stories in regards to that part of the **Castle** that she now found herself dying to go see it for real, especially because of the way Aunt Millanna had just behaved.

Arisza wasn't particularly fond of Aunt Millanna but what she had just seen had her rightly worried and puzzled?

Aunt Millanna had been upset and as her Uncle tucked her in under her beds silken sheets she noticed that he had a sort of troubled look that she couldn't really understand?

Something was happening?

"Uncle Razz?" asked Arisza as innocently as she possible could.

"No pet," stated Uncle Mirrazz, seeming to have read her mind!

"But Uncle Razz, I'm a royal too? Shouldn't I go?" begged Arisza extra sweetly.

"Stars above, brat. According to your aunts and grandmothers, no. M'dear snot face, You should not. Shall not. And if anyone asks I'm going to tell them that I told you, you could NOT!... Therefore I must insist you stay here in this bed and I must say to you good night..,…" answered Uncle Mirrazz before his golden eyes caught her own, where a sly conspiring look crept upon his face.

"However, it occurs to me that I've been hearing rumors of a clever little 'pastry thief' roaming all around the place?" her Uncle stated to the room at large before he made his way swiftly to her bed chambers ivory doors, where he paused and with his dark cape fluttering behind him turned his head to look over his shoulder at her, his face the very picture of craftiness and challenge, "And just think snot face? They'll be serving Dragon Beard Candy during the whole wretched affair, your Aunt Millanna's favorite by the way. Heh. As for me I think I'll have to ward my plate with curses, just so that I can manage a nibble? What do you think precious? A good idea?"

Arisza grinned enthusiastically, "Oh, yes Uncle Razz! That' a great idea!"

**************************************************(End of Part 2…)

Disclaimer:

Okay. So I know I have a lot of explaining to do. Number 1. I only own my original characters and ideas. Anything you recognize as Tolkien's etc. is Tolkien's etc., I am sadly making no profit from this whatsoever! Hence why my time is taken away from writing! Sob. Sob. Sob.

Number 2. Reality is just hard and gets in the way with all of my projects, I had high hopes with my new job, that I would be able to manage writing more with more frequent updates but sadly things have not gone according to plans. In fact I'll be searching again for yet another job pretty much tom, and the next day.

C'est la vie.

Now.

I want to say this THIS CHAPTER IS THE ONLY CHAPTER THAT WILL BE LIKE A PAGE OUT OF 'THE SIMARILLION' FOR THIS PARTICULARLY STORY,WHAT WITH THE HISTORY OF THE WARLENS AND THEIR SPECIES ETC. SO I UNDERSTAND IF IT'S A BORING UPDATE OR DISSAPOINTING, BUT I WANT YOU READERS TO SORT OF KNOW THESE CREATURES, BEFORE HAND SO YOU CAN ENJOY WITH ME THE SHAKE UP THAT THEIR EXISTENCE WILL CAUSE WHEN THE ELVES ETC. FIND OUT ABOUT THEM.

_IT WILL BE WICKED FUN!_

ALSO I really am a selfish creature myself, I only write for my own pleasure and at my own pace, if I could it would be all I do 24hours a day, sadly I have bills to pay. Sigh. So on that note, know that my stories are not abandoned or being blatantly ignored, I just am an extremely slow writer and am working on multiple projects and I mean multiple.

The important part is I am still working on each of these when I can.

And I will be posting new stories as well as soon as I am able, that I've started.

Just to at least get the ideas of them out there in the cosmos! Lol.

On another important note:

The Warlens are cat like shape-shifting creatures that in my head are a blend of 18th century Europe, pirate ship, matriarch led- meets pretty much Asia. All of Asia. Not specifically Chinese, Japanese, Mongolian, etc, but just Asia, all mixed up.

Reasons why: 1. ASIA: ROCKS! BETWEEN THE BEAUTY OF CHINESE PALACES AND JAPANS SAMURAII'S AND MONGOLIANS SHAMANS!

IT'S JUST AWESOME AND AMAZING!

2\. MIDDLE EARTH IS OVER-RUN WITH MID-EVIL EUROPE! IT'S SOMMERTHERED IN IT! CHAINED UP BY IT! I MEAN THIS IN A NICE WAY. HOWEVER, IT LEAVES A LONGING FOR OTHER CULTURE IN THE WORLD OF ARDA and I needed a contrast to the Elves.

One that is just as rich, beautiful, and diverse and could leave the Elves rather breathless!

Now. Moving on:

I DON'T HAVE ALL THE KINKS AND BLENDING OF THE WARLEN CULTURE WORKED OUT, BUT I DON'T HAVE ANYONE HELPING ME WITH THIS, AND WITH MY LIFE WHERE IT IS I DON'T HAVE THE LUXURY OF …WORKING ON THIS AS FREQUENTLY AS I WISH.

SO I'M GONNA WING IT. (At least what I consider winging it to be?)

HOWEVER I WILL DO MY VERY BEST! Also PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T GET OFFENDED BY MY NAÏVE USE OF ASIAN THINGS, AND PROBABLY LATER MISTAKES WITH ASIAN CULTURES.

I NO NOTHING- JUST LIKE JON SNOW.

I write only to get the demons, and people, and dancing witches out of my head.

That's all.

Lastly, Please don't get offended if I do not respond back to any reviews! I always welcome reviews, but I am pressed for time, and to avoid giving people too high expectations, or too many disappointments, I've decided it best if I don't respond.

Occasionally I will, but it's just easier this way.

I am not trying to be mean; and I DO ALWAYS ALWAYS APPRECIATE ANY SUPPORT GIVEN!

IN FACT THANK YOU ALL JUST FOR READING ANYTHING I'VE WRITTEN THIS FAR! YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME!.

Well- I think that's enough for now- on to working on the next chapter!

-Ever Grateful- Stella Limegood

…


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